


The Elusive Miss Trinket

by allonsysilvertongue



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Effie's parent makes an appearance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-09-13 16:49:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9132874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsysilvertongue/pseuds/allonsysilvertongue
Summary: Haymitch Abernathy was pulled out of his self-imposed retirement by the Trinkets with a request of utmost urgency. [Hayffie AU]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 2017, hayffie fandom.
> 
> This was inspired by the first fifteen minutes of A Talented Mr. Ripley.

A quiet snore rippled through the dimly lit room. On a sofa, sprawled a man in his early forties, an empty bottled clutched tightly to his chest.

A sliver of the afternoon sun filtered through the cracks of the window but oblivious to the setting of the moon and the rising of the sun, he slept on never realising that he had wasted half the day away.

Not that he cared about such trivialities.

The attitude was reflected in the state of his house. Empty bottles littered the floor. Some of the furniture was covered in a thin layer of dust. In a corner of the house, there was a clutter of an assortment of contraptions and items. Amongst those was an old camera with its lens cracked and a listening device.

He was startled awake from the kick to his foot and fumbled with the knife he kept stashed below the cushion, a pitiful attempt to defend himself against the intruder. His breathing had quickened and his eyes were wide, darting around him to take in his surroundings.

“Sloppy,” Chaff snickered. “You used to be better.”

He growled low under his breath and dropped the knife now that he knew there was no threat. Haymitch forced himself up and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palms.

 “ _We_ used to be better,” he mumbled.

There had been a time when they were at the top of their game and that he would never have allowed Chaff to sneak up on him but those days were long gone. Time was just whittling by for him. He thought he would miss the action, the adrenaline rush and the excitement but he didn’t quite mine his days lately. True, his skills were going to waste but –

There were things better left buried.

“Rent was due two days ago. I’ve settled it. Didn’t come home yesterday, did you?”

It was not unusual for Chaff to spend the night away. He enjoyed his strings of one night stands as much as he enjoyed his drinks. Haymitch had no problem with that since it meant he had the house to himself for the most part.

“Clean yourself up, man,” Chaff instructed instead of answering his question. “We’ve got a meeting with - let me correct myself -” he grinned, “ _you’ve_ got a meeting – a potential client.”

“Client?” Haymitch asked with a frown. “We don’t take clients. Not since…”

“Yeah, that’s what I straight up told ‘em but they insisted on meeting you.”

“I ain’t interested,” Haymitch waved it away, leaning forward to grab a bottle from the floor. “Bet it’s something boring – cheating spouses, gotta be the worst of the lot.”

“Won’t know till you meet them,” Chaff chuckled. “They came together so cheating spouse is out of the scenario. You should be interested anyway. It’s the Trinkets.”

His brows crinkled. The name sounded strangely familiar to him. City people, he supposed, someone famous. That line of thought proved to be correct when Chaff grunted impatiently at him.

“Come on, man. Trinket means money. They’re loaded with it. Lysandra Trinket… Ring any bell? She was a model.”

“Right,” Haymitch nodded distractedly, remembering a time long gone when his mother had uttered that name while they were watching a television show together.

“The pension we’re getting is all well and good, my friend, but we’re wasting it on this dump and a failing practice. I don’t know about you, buddy, but at some point in my life, I want to be able to use that money and maybe move outta this town, use it for something other than rent and – “

“If you just stop paying for the drinks of some random women who wandered into this town and visit the brothel a little less, you’d have – “

“Hey,” Chaff chuckled but the warning was clear in his voice.

Haymitch backed off. They all have their vices and Chaff had never lectured him about drinking too much… Probably because he drank too much just as well.

Chaff rubbed his face with his good hand. “They heard about how you found Iris Everdeen.”

“That was a long time ago,” Haymitch scowled. “Who went ‘round talking ‘bout that? The boy?”

“It _was_ in the local papers,” Chaff pointed out. “Anyone could have stumbled on it without your kids opening their mouths. Point is – the Trinkets want to meet you. I say give it a go and see what they’ve got to say. Primrose is doing a fine job chatting ‘em up to buy you time so I suggest you clean up and head out.”

XxX

Mellark’s Bakery was a short five minutes’ walk away from his house. As he neared, the sweet fragrance of freshly baked pastries wafted over to him. Haymitch took comfort at the probability that even if this meeting was going to be a waste of his time – and it would be – he would still get fed.

Before he entered, Haymitch peered through the glass window to have a look. Chaff was right. The pair of them stood out like a sore thumb.

At the same time, he also understood Chaff’s comment about associating the Trinkets with money. They fit the perfect stereotype of the rich and snobbish, the woman most of all with the small, perfectly trimmed poodle on her lap, the hair that was styled to perfection and heavily sprayed, the pair of gold heels that Haymitch was quite sure she had a hard time walking in given the rough, uneven streets in the town and the air of superiority that Haymitch gleaned off her. The man was wearing a fine tailored suit with cuffs that glittered distractedly from the reflection of the overhead lights in the bakery and was drinking slowly from his cup of tea.

He supposed Chaff was right, once again. The woman did look a little familiar but Haymitch had never paid much attention to the entertainment industry to recall if she was indeed a former model.

With an irritated grunt that Chaff had pulled him out of the house for _this_ , Haymitch pushed the door open. The bell jingled to signal his arrival.

At the sight of him, Prim’s eyes lighted up.

“Oh, he’s here,” Prim informed the couple.

Haymitch approached them and nodded his thanks at Prim. The Trinkets rose as one to greet him only to blink in surprise when he dropped on to the seat across from them, effectively ignoring the man’s outstretched hand.

“Take a seat,” Haymitch gestured and chuckled, “no need to remain standing for my sake.”

Acting against his potential clients’ expectations of him during the first meeting was something he enjoyed. It unnerved and unsettled them, and Haymitch found them to be more vulnerable and forthcoming in that state. Defensive clients made his job difficult.

The woman, Lysandra Trinket, huffed indignantly before abruptly turning to confront her husband.

“Are you absolutely certain this is a good idea, Stefan? I am beginning to have doubts. He hardly has an office! A meeting in a bakery… Honestly.”

“Be quiet now, Lysandra,” Stefan Trinket chided quietly but firmly. “We talked about this and he might be our only chance yet.”

Haymitch took this all in with amusement.

Their urgent whispers were broken when Prim came over to their table with three cinnamon rolls for Haymitch along with a cup of black coffee.

"Thanks, kid," he muttered.

“You’re welcome,” Prim smiled before asking if the Trinkets would like a refill.

Haymitch liked the kid. There was no pretentious air about her just like Katniss. Prim was sweet and kind, and sometimes he thought, too generous for this cutthroat world.

“Chaff told me you wanted to see me?” Haymitch addressed them. “I’m assuming there’s something important or you’d just be wastin’ _my_ time here.”

“Truly, that is not the way to speak to your clients,” the woman frowned. “Now, before we proceed, it is only appropriate to introduce ourselves. I’m Lysandra Trinket and this is my husband, Stefan. We are here with a request of utmost importance.”

“I’m sure,” Haymitch mumbled.

“I hope you realised that under normal circumstances, you will not be our first choice,” she went on.

 _That_ intrigued him.  Whatever her request would be, he was sure there would be others more capable than him where she came from.

"But?" Haymitch prompted.

"I have to admit, your social status – or lack thereof lately – makes you perfect for the job. You also have a commendable success rate.”

"What's the job exactly....?"

“It’s our daughter,” Stefan spoke up. “Euphemia… She hasn’t been around for a while now…”

“Euphemia is our youngest as I’m sure you know,” Lysandra added.

He did not. The Trinkets might have a famous family legacy but he was not aware of them much.

“By far, she is the most stubborn of my three children. As Stefan mentioned, she has not been home in years, always going on and on about looking for _something_. Her desire to not be associated with being “Lysandra Trinket’s daughter” is getting quite tiring. Your job is to locate her and persuade her to come home. I have had enough and it ends now.”

His brows shot up in surprise at the request, which he had to admit, was the first of its kind. He snorted in laughter.

Behind the counter where Peeta and Katniss were pretending not to be _too_ interested in the meeting, they paused and gave a curious glance in their direction.

“Is something amusing you, Mr. Abernathy? Our situation is dire. You found those girls’ mother. She was missing for months from what I read.”

“Bet you didn’t read the article properly, yeah? Iris spaced out and couldn’t cope. Lost her way quite literally one day and never made it home. She was _missing_. I searched for her, I found her and I brought her home to her kids. I did no persuading. Your daughter on the other hand… She sure as hell doesn’t sound like she’s missing.”

“It is the same difference,” Lysandra argued.

If she was this way with her children, then Haymitch was not surprised her daughter decided to take off.

“You locate their whereabouts and you talk to them about coming home. There is nothing different than what I am asking of you. Our daughter is missing, Mr. Abernathy.”

"Not truly," Stefan muttered softly.

“You said she’s missing, your husband doesn’t seem to think so. _I_ don’t think she’s missing. Probably had enough of you and decided to go her own way,” Haymitch said. “Give her a break.”

“Mr. Abernathy,” Stefan leaned forward. “It is a matter of technicality but what is true is that our family misses her, including me. She is my daughter. I want her found and I persuaded my wife to seek you out. We can engage someone else, that is not an issue but this is a delicate matter. My daughter will not appreciate the attention that it will bring if I were to engage …. You used to have a PI firm.”

“That’s the operative word here, yeah? Used to.”

"You have the necessary skills. Skills never leave you, Mr. Abernathy, they never abandon you. It will always be here," Stefan tapped his temple. "You can help us find our daughter."

"What my husband is not saying is that you are a has-been Mr. Abernathy," Lysandra added and ignored the look Stefan sent her way. "Nobody will be paying attention to you. We do not need to alert the entire City that the situation is so fraught we have been forced to engage someone to help us. Can you imagine the headlines in the papers and social media? It will be a PR nightmare.”

“You ever tried _asking_ her _nicely_ to… come home for a visit?”

“Before we came here, we sent Seneca Crane to bring her home. He is a dear friend of my daughter but it did not have the desired outcome.”

“Yes,” Stefan nodded in agreement. “We believe now that sending Seneca or anyone that my daughter knows will only spook and drive her further away. She thinks we are manipulating her in that sense and it creates a larger rift.”

“You sent someone after her to her location which means she’s not missing,” Haymitch stared pointedly at Lysandra. “You know where she is.”

“We did back then. We knew where she was but now, we only have the faintest idea of where she might be,” Stefan admitted. “She has been careful to keep that information to herself. It was our fault. Like I’ve said, asking Seneca for that favour only pushed her further away from our reach.”

"How much further?" Haymitch asked, curious.

"We believe she’s in Asia."

"Asia...." he breathed out. “You’re kidding me.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

** Chapter 2 **

“Has it ever occurred to that your daughter simply doesn’t want you in her life?” Haymitch asked, leaning back against his seat as he watched them.

The Trinkets exchanged a glance and it was clear to him that that line of thought had never crossed Lysandra Trinket’s mind. A woman of her stature and prestige likely had people lining up to kiss her feet, clamouring for her attention and having someone not wanting her in their life was a foreign concept to her.

“Whatever do you mean?” she frowned.

Haymitch grunted, impatient.

“There are three kinds of missing people,” he explained. “One, they don’t want to be found. Two, they’re not missing. _You_ are just not part of their lives – a life they built for themselves after _moving_ away. Your daughter falls in that category … or the first, really. Three – every other missing person. Those that was kidnapped or abducted or murdered.”

“She was not abducted and I am quite certain she is still very much alive,” Lysandra informed him. “But one can never tell what tragedy can befall with her being so far away from home. All the horror stories I’ve heard…. Our request still stands. You are to find her and persuade her home. We already told you where she is.”

Haymitch snorted.

“You said Asia and that’s a whole fucking huge continent. She could be anywhere in China or India or somewhere else. She’s relocated to a continent where her identity is unknown which makes it difficult for _me_ to find her; difficult to pry her whereabouts from people when no one there knows her. It’s all about following the traces they unknowingly left behind.”

They were listening to him with such rapt attention he felt almost sorry – _almost -_ when he broke it to them.

“So, no,” Haymitch smiled. “I ain’t doing it. I’m not ‘bout to travel to the other side of the world searching for someone who might not even want to be home, someone who might not even want any of you in her life. She’s a rich brat who’s got the money to just up and leave, and I ain’t gonna waste my time.  It doesn’t interest me, nothing’s at stake except for your reputation.”

For the first time since he sat across from them, the role switched and he witnessed the thunderous expression on Stefan Trinket's face at his refusal. Unlike his wife who was more expressive with her thoughts and feelings, Stefan ran a hand down the front of his waist coat to gather himself together before piercing Haymitch with a look.

In that split moment, Haymitch wondered which parent Euphemia took after; the loud, haughty mother or the pensive but stern father, or if she was an equal combination of both. That, he supposed, would be interesting.

"Do you have children, Mr. Abernathy?" Stefan asked.

He _really_ should have seen the question coming. Haymitch's gaze trailed towards where Katniss was standing next to Peeta, helping him with the pastries arrangement on the tray and then to Prim, polishing the cups and plates by the counter.

"You want only the best for them..." Stefan murmured, glancing once in the direction of the three children.

Haymitch could understand that. He really did. Katniss, Prim and Peeta weren't his, not by blood. They unwittingly came into his life and over the years, they became _his_ and he understood wanting them to have the best that life had to offer, even if where they lived, opportunities were limited.

"There are times, Mr. Abernathy, that what we thought is best might not be what they want.... or need. We pushed too hard and Euphemia... She was always pressured to succeed and carve a name for herself by the success of her sister and brother, and her us, her parents. My daughter yearned to assert her own individuality – a constant source of consternation in our family – and succeed based on her own capabilities without her mother's meddlesome hand."

Lysandra clicked her tongue disapprovingly at that insight to her relationship with her daughter.

"She has always come to me with problems and I was aware that she has been unhappy for a very long time but having said that, I was still surprise to find her gone. I… had hoped it was a passing folly but I have not seen or talked to her in three years."

He heard what Stefan did not say; that he was disappointed she did not talk to him before leaving or sought his advice, that he longed to see his daughter again and wanted a chance to set things right.

"It will not be possible for Lysandra and me to find her on our own. _We_ are the source of the problem."

"Oh, do not be ridiculous, Stefan," Lysandra interjected.

"The sooner you realise it for what it is, the better," Stefan retorted. "As I was saying, Mr. Abernathy, the sight of us would likely risk her fleeing once more which is why I am willing to pay you to do the job, however much you need. Name your price."

Haymitch let out a sigh.

"Look," he rubbed the back of his neck.

He had never been a big believer of fate but he would like to think there was a reason the Trinkets were here and that it could benefit him in a way, if he played his cards right. There was something he could get out of them.

"That kid you've been talkin’ to... Prim," he began, "she wants to be just like her mum. Iris was a healer. Prim's got a good heart, she likes helping people but she's stuck here, yeah? And there’s nothin’ much here. She’s gonna need training in the future, good grades to get to good school. What I need is for that kid to have a chance … a shot at that. I ain’t saying the teachers here aren’t good. They are but I want to give her more. She's doing alright at her school right now but it ain't enough. You need to get me a tutor for her, the best the city's got to offer. You know anyone like that? And when she applies to colleges later on when she’s at that age, you remember her and you put in a good word of recommendation for her. You're well connected enough to do that, yeah?"

Haymitch would have asked the Trinkets for her to be enrolled in a reputable school in the city where opportunities would open up for her but Katniss would never agree to being separated from her sister, not this soon after what just happened with Iris, so he did the next best thing.

"If that is what it takes for you to agree to this, we can work towards that," Lysandra said. "You can be rest assure that we will hire only the best tutor for her.”

"Okay," Haymitch said simply. “One more thing…”

His gaze briefly flitted over to the three children but they were no longer paying him any attention, their attention now focused on serving the two new customers that just walked in.

“The record Chaff and I have… The time is coming up when it will be made public. I need that record gone.”

Lysandra and Stefan exchanged a glance.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Lysandra declared.

Haymitch chuckled derisively. “You did your homework before coming to see me. You must know of my background, come on.”

“That…” Stefan shifted in his seat, “is a difficult thing you are asking.”

They stared at each other before Haymitch pushed his chair back and stood up, “Alright, I guess meeting’s over.”

“Difficult but not impossible,” Stefan said calmly and slowly, Haymitch sat back down. “I will see what can be done.”

Haymitch nodded, accepting his word.

"Now that we have an understanding, are you able to guarantee that you will bring my daughter home in three months' time? My daughter, Eirene will be married in three months and we need Euphemia to be home just before the wedding. Everyone has to be present – the perfect image."

"No," Haymitch snorted. "I don't know why you came to me. I ain't an investigator anymore and I sure as hell ain't a miracle worker. I'll find her and I'll get her home but I won't give you a specific time."

Lysandra pursed her lips impatiently.

“Your dwindling business is exactly what makes you the suitable candidate for the job," she told him. "No one will be expecting you of all people to be looking for our daughter. We do not need the press picking up on this. Above all, we absolutely do not want to give anyone the impression that there is trouble in the family which is why I need you to treat this with _urgency,_ Mr. Abernathy,” Lysandra implored. “Three months – that is all you have."

"I agreed to do it so let me do it _my_ way," Haymitch stated firmly. “I need a starting point. Has she ever told you of some place she wanted to visit before? Anything is a clue."

“Nothing in particular but Euphemia is very fond of her nephew and we came to know that they maintain a form of contact with each other even after she left,” Stefan explained. “She sent a few photos of herself to him and one of it caught my attention. I’ve shown the same to Beetee Latier. I assume you are acquainted with him?”

He knew Beetee, after having worked with him in a few cases, and he had been instrumental in assisting him and Chaff.

“The photograph also provided us a clue as to where she might be…”

The photo in question was in Stefan’s phone and when he handed it over to Haymitch, he was floored by the image of her. Euphemia was striking. Her eyes which were bright and gentle caught his attention first and it reminded him of the ocean, pale and crystal clear blue. The way she smiled could convince just about anyone that the world was right even if it was falling apart around them.

Still, there was a sharpness in her expression, a subtle warning that she should not be trifled with and in that, he saw a glimpse of Lysandra Trinket. Haymitch wondered how she sounded like. He tried to place a voice to her face; if it was high-pitched and irritating or honeyed as if she was constantly sugar-coating her words or perhaps, Haymitch wondered if she spoke quietly in a light and pleasant tone. 

“Her background…” Stefan’s sharp voice brought him back to attention. “Do you see it?”

He brought the phone closer to examine it and there it was, at the top right hand corner, a landmark that could give her location away.

“The London Eye?” Haymitch asked with a little hope that perhaps she was not in Asia as her parents thought she was. Travelling to Europe, he figured, would not be as bad as traveling to Asia. “Or… the High Roller, yeah?”

_That’ll be even better._

Stefan glanced up.

“As it so happened, which I am sure it was on oversight on my daughter’s part or she would have taken steps to have it remove, the photo has a … geotag function. Mr. Latier was helpful to assist me with it. The geotage -”

“- tells you the location,” Haymitch finished.

“Yes, and we did say Asia, Mr. Abernathy,” Stefan smiled. “That’s the Flyer.”

The wheels in his mind turned and he quickly began to put the two together. Haymitch left out a breath.

“Singapore.”

“Yes, indeed. The photograph was sent two days ago to my grandson and while it might not prove length of stay, I have reasons to believe that she has been domiciled there for a while now.”

“Right,” Haymitch drummed his fingers on the table. “Guess she really went for it – put in as much distance as possible in a densely populated city. Finding her will be a challenge…”

And he loved a challenge.

“You’ll be covering my expenses, right?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the first draft of this chapter and the next few after this, I wrote Effie as being in Central Thailand but as much as I know and I like Bangkok, I know my own little lion city more. So I've brought hayffie to my backyard to play :)
> 
> Haymitch and Effie have yet to meet but we'll get there! In the meantime, let me know your thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Haymitch felt her eyes on him with a list of question burning on her lips. He ignored it as he pulled clothes after clothes from the hanger in his wardrobe.

"Haymitch…." Prim called on him quietly. "Katniss told me that you're not doing this anymore, not after Annie. You don't have to…for me"

"We talked about this. It's decided."

Behind him, Prim exhaled wistfully but to her credit, chose a neutral question. "What's it like there… Singapore?"

He shrugged. He had done a search on the city-island and there were a few things he could tell Prim – that it was just a small city squashed in between two big countries which often sheltered it from any natural disasters or that they had developed their own colloquial English - but he settled for the easiest.

"Hot."

"How long will you be gone?"

"Not sure," Haymitch admitted as he turned around to face Prim. She was standing by his bed, folding clothes into his bag. "As soon as it's done, I'll be back. Three months, maybe…"

"She's not like mum," she stated out of the blue.

"No, she's not like your mum. She isn't missing _missing._ "

"I think mum's like _her_ ," Prim said so quietly that Haymitch almost missed it. "I think she wants to leave but … I'm here. So is Katniss. This place kept reminding her of dad, though."

Haymitch pinched the bridge of his nose.

"It's difficult for her but she still has responsibilities to you and Katniss," he added even if it was becoming very glaring that Katniss was the one pulling the weight.

"I know," Prim said simply, "but it makes me think that if she could, she would have left and start a life elsewhere, just like Mr. and Mrs. Trinket's daughter. I think – I think I'll be okay with that, too. If it makes mum feel more… at peace."

It startled him to hear her talking that way. Perhaps without him realising it, Prim had grown.

"Anyway, when will I meet this tutor?"

"Soon, I guess. The Trinkets will contact you to make arrangements."

Prim nodded and went back to quietly helping Haymitch with his packing. Katniss had gone off to hunt in the woods as she did every morning. When he had told the three teenagers that he would be leaving for a few months, Katniss had said very little except that he would call to check in whenever he can. Peeta had promised to keep an eye on Chaff and watch after the two girls. It made Katniss scowl but between his amused laugh, Peeta had also offered to drive Haymitch three hours out to Charlotte Douglas Airport.

"You forgot this?"

Chaff wandered into his room, waving a stun gun and a gun that once belonged to Haymitch.

"I won't need it," Haymitch shook his head. "Euphemia Trinket isn't in danger - ain't a kidnapping case."

"You never know, man. She could have a jealous boyfriend or a psycho colleague," Chaff muttered.

"Then I'll handle it."

"Better be safe than sorry," Chaff insisted.

" _Don't_ need it," Haymitch said. He hated guns or the feel of it in his hand. His knife should be enough. "You know it's illegal to carry those stuffs around in Singapore, yeah?"

"Really?" Chaff folded his arms. "Or you're just fucking with me 'cause you don't want to bring them?"

"I'm not kidding – guns, stun guns, pepper spray. I don't plan to be thrown in jail before I even make it pass immigration. You've asked Beetee to get on board, yeah?"

"Yep," Chaff nodded in affirmative, finally relenting. "Don't worry about it. Just get there and we'll do what we need to do here."

Since Stefan had told him about Euphemia and his grandson, Haymitch had gleaned that she was active online so he had tasked Beetee with unearthing everything he could about her. In this day and age, he was quite certain she would have at least _one_ social media account and that was all Beetee would need. In Haymitch's line of duty, the simplest and seemingly most insignificant of detail could be a clue.

Haymitch grabbed his phone with the intention of checking that the battery had been fully charged but he ended up going to his photo gallery to have a look at the photograph Stefan had sent to him for his referral. He told himself, as he stared at the picture, that it was to commit her face to memory but ….

"She's pretty," Prim observed, peeking into his phone as she stood next to him with a pile of neatly folded clothes.

"I don't see what that has got to do with anything," he murmured.

"Oh, nothing," Prim's eyes twinkled, "but she looks happy where she's at now. You're going to be spoiling her party by bringing her home."

"Too bad for her," he chuckled. "That's my job now. If I don't do it, guess who's not getting a tutor and that apothecary is gonna remain shut forever – a shame, yeah?"

XxX

His two hours flight to Chicago went relatively smooth with no incident.

It was the long flight from there to Hong Kong that he had a problem with. He finished a book mid-way during the flight and because he was pacing himself with the drink, he grew restless quickly. Given his career, the time he spent sitting on the flight doing nothing should be something he was used to. After all, he had spent hours in a car watching his target but … Chaff was always there to fill the gaps and the silence.

His gaze strayed to the woman next to him, engrossed with the in-flight movie she was watching. At times, he wished such mindless things could occupy him so he would not be in this state – exhausted but not fully able to close his eyes for even a short nap. He leaned back against the seat, arms folded across his chest with his leg tapping a restless beat against the floor.

There was still seven hours to go. Seven hours that a normal human being not plagued by nightmares could spend sleeping, but not him.

It was at that moment that he hated Euphemia Trinket, and her selfish reasons for leaving the States.

"Couldn't have fucking ran off to Hong Kong or to Japan, could you?" he muttered to himself angrily. "That'll save me a flight."

 _This woman_ , he thought, _better be worth my time._

His two hours layover was spent walking mindlessly around the airport and visiting souvenir shops. He bought three different items for Katniss, Peeta and Prim each and paid for it using the credit card Stefan Trinket had provided him.

The last leg of his flight from Hong Kong to Singapore went by in a blur. He had lost track the date and day but the only thing he was aware of was the fact that it was one in the morning and having travelled for more than twenty hours, he was exhausted.

But he was alert. He had never been here and he was always wary of unfamiliar places.

As he stood on the travelator, his gaze swept through the premises watching the other travellers hurrying over to their gates, to the various machines lining the sidewalk offering money changing services, payment options for online transactions and the computer terminals.

Clearing immigration took him faster than expected and while everyone else was rushing to the conveyor belt for their luggage, Haymitch made a stop at the duty free shop for liquor. It was only when he had two bottles with him that he went to the belt to get his luggage and walked right out of the doors towards the taxi stand.

"Number 7!" the man waved him towards the direction of a taxi once he was in front of the queue.

He blinked and dutifully went to the spot marked seven. He spent the ride staring out of the window and watching the sceneries passed him by but the roads were too bright. There were street lamps every hundred meters and at first, he thought it was just the airport but it was on every street and road, and to his tired eyes, the glare was piercing.

"The streets are too clean," Haymitch muttered that observation out loud.

The taxi driver briefly looked at him through the rear view mirror.

"Yes," he nodded. "Don't throw your rubbish on the streets only at the rubbish bin. Otherwise, I tell you, the Gahmen will fine you hundreds of dollars, make you do community service! That's why everybody scared to litter," the driver laughed.

He stared at the back of the driver's head, wondering if the old man was joking before dismissing it.

"Gahmen?" he frowned, picking up on the irregularity instead.

"Government – that's how we say it," he chuckled. "Anyway, that's your hotel. You can see it already."

It wasn't his hotel that caught his interest. It was something else. Haymitch straightened in his seat, his attention fully focused on it.

"That's it," he breathed out.

The Singapore Flyer loomed to his left; a bright, giant wheel against the night sky. He had seen it on Google Images but it was always different to see something for oneself. Haymitch made a calculating sweep over the nearby area to possibly identify the location from which Euphemia had taken the photo but it was difficult when they were traveling on the expressway.

XxX

Ever since he checked in and was shown to his room, Haymitch had been staring at the ceiling, occasionally drinking from the bottle and waiting for sleep to claim him.

He had already sent a text message to Katniss to notify her that he had safely arrived. Back at home, he was hoping that Beetee already had some luck with his digging. The Trinkets had sent him here to Singapore and even if the country was small, there were still _millions_ of people here. Their daughter was a needle in the proverbial haystack.

It was not to say that he had no plan of action. He already planned to scout the area surrounding the Flyer tomorrow. It would not hurt to have a look, perhaps even ask around using the photo of her that was in his possession. She could be a regular visitor of that area and people might recognise her.

Haymitch thought of her long and hard while lying in bed. Family could be overbearing, he would grant that, but to distant oneself and completely disappear from her family's life without any phone calls or contact with her parents for _years_... That was something he could not wrap his head around.

He would give anything to hear his mother's nagging or the quiet creak of the floorboard as his father get a bottle he had hidden from his mother. He would trade his life to have his brother shadow him for an entire day, something which the younger Haymitch found irritating but now missed more than anything.

Whatever the reason may be, the youngest Trinket would have a weakness. He would find hers and use it to convince her to return home so he could close this job.

XxX

"You did what?!" Haymitch sputtered. "Is that … _legal_?"

Around him, people were giving him uncomfortable side-glances. Aware of this, Haymitch quickened his pace, weaving amongst the crowd until he reached the front of the mall. Unlike the polished, modern looking high-rise that was his hotel at Marina Bay Sands, this old-fashioned building was hardly eye-catching and was only visited by electronic enthusiast.

"Damn it, Beetee, I asked you to snoop. You can't just hack into her… or anyone's social media account! That's... a breach of privacy."

_"Says the private investigator..."_

"Fine," he concurred. "What did you find?"

With the phone wedged between his cheek and shoulder, Haymitch entered a shop. Like every other shop that he had passed by since he reached the mall, this one was no different. There were a range of computers and laptops on display both new and second-hand. There were digital cameras and other electronic gadgets, none of which interest him since he was looking for something else entirely, something very specific.

_"_ _None of her social media accounts state her address – and I wasn't expecting to find it, of course. No sensible person would put up their address on Facebook. But I did get a sense of… her, of who she is. There were photos she took while on a run and – "_

"Tell me it was near that Flyer," he muttered.

 _"_ _Yes,"_ Beetee chuckled. _"I cleaned up some of the photographs with Finnick's help and extracted some of the background to compare with the map on – "_

"Get to the point, Beetee," Haymitch cut him off knowing full well that Beetee would attempt to explain the technicalities of it, half of which would be lost of him.

He was sounding irritable, he knew. But he had been to three shops so far without finding what he was looking for even if he had asked for it discreetly. He had heard of some shady dealings going on so he was certain he would find it. It was just a matter of asking the right people.

_"_ _I believe that she enjoys a run or a stroll by the river which is the area where the Flyer and coincidentally, your hotel is located and –"_

"There are two sides to any bloody river, Beetee, what are the odds being in my favour that I'd bump into her?" he asked.

Haymitch drummed his finger against the display casing, waiting for the shop owner who had disappeared into the back of his shop to return. When he emerged, he was holding on to a packaging the size of his palm and handed it to Haymitch.

"This is what you want?"

Haymitch nodded, tearing the package open.

_"_ _Well… This might be of interest to you, judging from some of the uploaded photos it looks like Euphemia Trinket has a company… or some online business here. There were photos of bridal dresses and hand bouquets appearing quite often on her Instagram… Either that or she was planning her wedding. No captions to accompany the photos so it wasn't very illuminating"_

"Right – hold on a minute," Haymitch pulled the phone from his ear to inspect the small circular device. "This will do. I'll take it."

He made sure to pay by cash, just in case, and left the shop.

"I found it and bought it," he told Beetee. "So did you do a business profile search under her name?"

_"_ _I was going to search for her LinkedIn account but I will get to – "_

"Did you say wedding? Here? She got married _here?"_ Haymitch hissed into the phone. "That's fucking great, Beetee. If she has a family here, persuading her to leave would be fucking impossible, and that's not something I want to be telling her parents."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that I continue be a disappointment because Effie and Haymitch still have not met but we will get there, in the next chapter. On the bright side of Chap 3, Haymitch is in the same country as Effie is so that's a plus.
> 
> Anyway, what are your thoughts on what Prim said about her mother? Or about what Beetee did/found out? What did Haymitch buy and for what? What do you think of Effie from what we've known of her so far? Let me know!
> 
> As I will be leaving for Thailand next week, the next chapter might be posted on Monday (23/1) instead otherwise, the weekend after!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"He's playing Pokemon," someone said.

He shot the group of teenagers a look and continued walking, occasionally checking his phone to make sure he was heading towards the right direction. Eventually, he leaned against the bannister circling the Rain Oculus, a giant whirlpool bowl located at The Shoppes just across from his hotel.

There were children around the Oculus but Haymitch ignored their quiet giggles of amusement when one of their friends' whispers carried itself across the bowl from the opposite end of where they stood. It was a game that he didn't quite understood yet.

Swiping his phone to unlock it, the screen showed Euphemia Trinket's Instagram account, the same that Beetee had hacked earlier. He glanced up to survey the spot he was standing and he was certain that she had stood at this very place just a week ago, taking a video of the light show over by the river at night.

Scrolling further down, he found another photo dated two weeks old from the very same light show which meant that she had been there two weeks in a row. From his search on Google, Haymitch easily found out that the next show was tonight, at half past nine.

Judging by her behaviour, logically he would have a higher chance of catching her tonight during the light show than he would if he were to walk over to the Flyer to hang around hoping that she would jog by.

He would try his luck tonight and if that proved to be futile, he would wait for information from Beetee on the supposed business that the youngest Trinket might have.

Lining the pathway along the river and outside of The Shoppes were restaurants and bars that provided both indoor and outdoor sitting. Finding himself a bar not far from the Oculus was easy and he chose an outdoor seat so he could see the open plaza where the light show would take place. Now that the sun had set, the weather was not as piercing hot as it was that afternoon. The cooling breeze was a balm against his sweaty skin.

Haymitch tipped the glass of bourbon back as his mind turned over the problem. He had been so inherently focused on locating her that he had not spared a thought of what to say to her when he did eventually find her. The approach he used was just as important, especially so in individuals who could be spook into fleeing.

With Iris Everdeen, he had taken on a gentle approach. He had offered her a hand of friendship and then slowly reminded her of the two daughters she had left behind. Haymitch had carefully connected her to Primrose, allowed her to hear her daughter's voice and used her daughters to eventually bring her home. It was finding the right way to manipulate them and to others, manipulating another human being was seen in a dark light but in his line of work, it was a necessary evil.

When he noticed the throngs of people walking towards the Oculus for the open plaza, Haymitch checked his watch.

As he approached, he groaned inwardly at the size of the crowd. There were people sitting on the steps of the plaza and those who could not find a seat were standing around for a good spot of the show. Haymitch parted the crowd to get to the back where the Oculus was. He would start there and if the odds were in his favour, then Euphemia would be standing at the same spot she had a week ago.

Of course, thing were not always so easy.

Haymitch found a group of Chinese tourist instead. He started looking around, trying to spot the now familiar face in the crowd. He had been staring at her photograph frequent enough that it was seared into his memory.

Behind him, the sky had exploded in a convergence of colour as the show began. Water jets shot up in dazzling purple and green, and a story began to unfold.

He took very little interest in it. The show would last for fifteen minutes which was the length of time he had to find her in this crowd before they disperse, making his job even more undeniably difficult.

"Wahlau eh," someone clicked his tongue at him in annoyance, "stop pushing!"

"Excuse me, just need to get to the other side," he muttered, raising his hand at the local man as an apology.

Having made it towards the back of the crowd, he stood in front of Chanel's giant board to survey the mass of people. A quick check on his watch showed him that he had three minutes left before the show ended.

He wiped the sweat off his brows. Three minutes would be over in a blink and even if everyone more or less remained where they were, he would still not have enough time.

Then just when he thought that today was not the day that he would find her, he caught a glimpse of her. Haymitch stood frozen, quite unable to believe what he was seeing. The familiar thrill of discovery shot through him.

She was such a sight. There was a small smile across her lips as she stared at the sky above.

Haymitch took a step forward, almost in a trance and as he shifted, the person in front of him moved a little to make way for him. In that instance, Euphemia Trinket disappeared into the thick of the crowd only to resurface again when the crowd stirred. Her phone was poised above her head, taking a photo of the lasers dancing on the night sky.

Pulling his phone out, Haymitch refreshed the screen. There it was; a photo posted thirty-one seconds ago which was taken at an angle that was only possible from the spot where she was standing.

That was all the confirmation he needed.

He might have made his disapproval about hacking into people's account known to Beetee earlier but right now, he couldn't have been gladder. Haymitch hoped that he would never have to explain to her that he had access to her private account on his phone.

"Thank you!" a voice over a speaker announced the end of the show.

Haymitch paused. Pockets of movements began to emerge all throughout the crowd as everyone began to disperse. He followed, keeping his eyes firmly on the blonde head in front of him. They were still separate by quite a distance but she was moving away and he intended to keep her within his line of sight.

"Sorry, would you mind giving me a hand?"

The woman struggling with her stroller looked up at him and what sort of person would he be to walk right past her without assisting?

"Here," he said quickly, tearing his gaze away from his target to the woman for a split second.

Haymitch lifted the stroller with the little boy inside and moved it up the three steps to settle it on the ground.

"Thank you so much!" the woman smiled at him to which he nodded.

He caught a glimpse of the blonde head bobbing up and down the crowd as she walked further away from him. He hurried. All Haymitch needed was to stall her so that he could get close enough to slip the device into her pocket or her handbag.

Instinctively, Haymitch did the first thing that came to him. He called out her name.

"Euphemia!"

It made her paused in her steps, turning around halfway to look over her shoulder. Their eyes met briefly but there was no flicker of recognition in her eyes because _she_ didn't know _him_ the way he did so she looked right through him and passed it off has her imagination that she might have heard her name being called. She walked off and merged into another crowd coming from her left.

That was the last he saw of her.

"Fuck," Haymitch spat, slowing down slightly.

He still tried and when he couldn't spot her along the walkway outside The Shoppes, he decided to try inside.

Still, he couldn't see any signs of her. Haymitch toyed with the idea that she might have gone to the toilets so he loitered along the corridors but that only drew curious look from the staffs of Burberry and Balenciaga. After ten minutes and finding no sign of her, Haymitch admitted defeat.

At least he knew now that she frequent the area and if her family was any indication, The Shoppes seemed to be exactly right up her alley. All the branded names and fashionable goods…

That was still development. It was still _something._

Next time, however, he would need to make contact.

Haymitch filed the fact that he also saw her alone and that she was not accompanied by anyone who could potentially be her husband. It could mean anything, of course, _but_ , she was alone and alone was good.

XxX

The knife slipped from his grasp as his brain processed the fact that he was startled awake by the ringing of his phone and not because of any notable danger. Haymitch grabbed the offending device from the nightstand.

"Yeah, Beetee? Got something?" Haymitch mumbled into the phone.

"Yeah, got something for you," Beetee answered and Haymitch noted the tinge of excitement in his voice. "I ran the business profile search like you asked and I found – did I wake you? What time is it there?"

"Three in the morning. We got 'bout thirteen hours apart. Doesn't matter," he said, staring absent-mindedly at the television he had turned on before he fell asleep. Channel NewsAsia was on and having no desire to watch the news at that hour, Haymitch began flipping through the channels. "What'd you find?"

"I've got her address. I know where she is and the sort of business she runs. Euphemia Trinket isn't married. Personally, I don't think she is. She owns Effie's Bridal & Boutique."

"Effie...?" Haymitch latched on it.

"Yes. She goes by that. I tried running the search with Euphemia Trinket but that returned no results probably because I was too specific. So I ran it by 'Trinket' alone and well… Effie Trinket turned out."

"You're sure it's her?"

"Absolutely," Beetee affirmed with confidence. "I ran a social media search based on her shop's name which led me to its Facebook page. She was in the photos. Chaff ran a facial identification because he was _sure_ you will want a confirmation and it's positive."

"Good. You want to give me her address?"

"More good news – I also have her residential address. It was on the business profile search."

"That's great," Haymitch declared, pleased by that. "Text me both but you know how it is, I'll drop by the workplace first. Where is uh… Where is her store?"

"Not far from where you're at. Google Map indicates that it's only a five minutes' drive away at Capitol Piazza."

XxX

Capitol Piazza was not difficult to find. Like The Shoppes, it was another luxury shopping mall. As he alighted from the taxi, the first thing he noticed was the bright pink neon sign of Capitol Theatre.

He went straight to the directory to locate her store and then made his way over.

Haymitch stood in front of the glass window with her shop name emblazoned in golden letterings across it. The inside of her shop was modest with mannequins donning various wedding gowns with a raised platform for her to take measurements. There were full length mirrors around the shop and a round table with several chairs from where he supposed she would have meetings and discussion with clients.

On his way over, Haymitch had given some thought on how he would approach her. There were two ways to go about it. He could walk in and pretend that he had no idea who she is and introduce himself or he could introduce himself and made it clear that he knew her.

Usually, he let nature take its course. There were times that what he intended to do did not fit the scenario as it unfolded.

He was about to take a step towards the door when she caught sight of him lingering outside. After a few words with her customer, she walked towards him.

Haymitch wasn't a nervous man by nature but he licked his lips and cleared his throat, preparing himself for the inevitable contact she was about to make with him.

"Hello, hello!" she pulled the door open and inside, a chime jingled. "Come in! If you see something you are interested in, do not just linger. Do come in, sir, so I can be of assistance."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it - Haymitch and Effie meeting each other! I hope you've enjoyed the chapter :) As usual, let me know what you think or what you supposed Haymitch is going to do/act. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Just some fun facts: The light show happens every night at designated hours but for the purpose of this story, I made it so that it happens weekly! Marina Bay Sands, the area where Haymitch stays and where The Shoppes is located was a Pokemon hotspot (back when Pokemon Go was still the rage), thought it'll be fun to throw that in. As for the Oculus, when the water is off, you can try whispering into it to your friend at the other end and they'll likely be able to hear an echo of what you're saying. I am half deaf so it never works for me but my friend swore by it.
> 
> Wahlau is a Singlish (Singaporean colloquial English) term that connotes annoyance, disbelief or surprise.


	5. Chapter 5

** Chapter 5 **

_Or... I can let her lead and see where this goes._

Haymitch found himself ushered towards one of the velvet sofas in the room. She smiled radiantly at him and treated him the way one would treat a potential customer. One of her staffs, came to offer him a drink which he accepted gruffly.

"Give me _one_ minute," Euphemia Trinket trilled in a high tone. "I am almost done with Ms. Tan and then I will be right over with you. Make yourself comfortable!"

He gave a nod, still staring at her. She hurried across the room to her customer, her heels clicking loudly against the marble floor. He let his gaze roam her figure from the elaborate hair-do to the silk blouse tucked neatly into the waist band of her skirt down the long legs and the high heels, and wondered if she had ever broken her ankle from it before.

This was the woman he had spent more than twenty hours on a plane across the globe for. She was beautiful, he would admit that but it still felt a little underwhelming to him. Aside from the fact that this was the fastest he had ever located anyone he was put on a case for, he couldn't see anything special about her. He could see it in Annie Cresta. He could see it in Iris Everdeen because of her children but Euphemia Trinket...

He tossed the thought aside.

Special or not, he had been tasked to get her back and getting her back would be a challenge.

With time on his hand, Haymitch composed a single line of text for Stephen Trinket. **_Found her. She's safe._**

He brought up the camera function to take a photo of her shop for her father's benefit. He heard the noise of her heels first followed swiftly by a hand on the screen on his phone.

"Ah, ah, ah, no photography," she warned him.

Haymitch lowered his phone. "Why not? I thought you got all these stuff up on your Facebook? Your dresses are there, yeah?"

The smile she threw him was dazzling but he also noticed the impatience in it.

"Not _all_ of my designs. Some dresses are customised specially for my clients. It won't do to have those up on special media _before_ their big day. As much as I do not want people _stealing_ my wedding designs, I also have to respect my customer's wishes for it to be a surprise until their wedding day. Now," she clapped her hands together, "do we begin or shall we wait for your fiancé?"

That question caught him slightly off guard. Haymitch looked around. He was in a bridal boutique and it was not wrong of her to assume that he was there for a very specific reason.

"We shall wait for her. It is uncommon for the groom to be to be here without the significant other since the bride usually has more specifications in mind," Effie laughed lightly. "Most decisions are made by the bride, from my experience."

"There's no need. No one's coming."

She looked surprised at that but Haymitch hated lying. He could give half-truths but to pretend that he was here for her wedding services in order to get closer to her… He was sure he could think of a better alternative without giving himself away.

"I'm here on business… Was just passin' by your shop… I don't see many – I mean, it is usually the _locals_ with this sort of business, isn't it?"

She tilted her head to the side and fixed him with a strange look.

"Am I to understand that you stopped by because you saw a white woman working in a bridal boutique?"

"Yeah," he answered. "Like I said, don't see that often here."

Not that he had been here long enough to form such deductions but it would have to do, he thought.

"It's interesting, is all," he added amicably.

"Oh, is that really so?" She seemed pleased by what he said as if she had found a slice of validation in what she had achieved her. Lowering herself on the seat across from him, she asked, "You are not here for my services then?"

"Nah," Haymitch mumbled. "Got no prospect, not interested."

Her eyes lighted up and it raked over him, taking the sight of him before she simply told him, "Do not sell yourself short."

Haymitch raised an eyebrow at that.

"You seem oddly familiar," she commented and briefly, Haymitch feared that she recalled him calling out to her at the light show yesterday. "I cannot recall at the moment but I will eventually. How long have you been here?"

"Few days," he answered and it made her laugh, a little too derisively in his opinion.

"How could you possibly know that there are no other people like me with a boutique?" she exclaimed.

She was sharp, he would grant her that.

"Something I observed. Maybe there are others, I wouldn't know and that'll be my mistake for making an assumption. Your place just caught _my_ attention," he said and paused.

He learnt that if given some sort of attention, he would get a reaction in return so he waited to see if she would be flustered by it but she merely held his gaze.

He should have known, though. With a mother who was a famous model, she was probably used to having people's attention that coming from _him_ , it was nothing.

"Like I said, Euphe- " Haymitch stopped abruptly. He cleared his throat. "Like I said, here on business and haven't done much sight-seeing."

She froze. Her whole body tensed at that.

Haymitch schooled his expression carefully. He realised his slip up. She was Euphemia to him. Her parents had introduced her as such when they came and until that morning, she had never been anything else to him, especially not an _Effie_.

"What was it that you were going to call me by?" her voice had lost its warmth.

She no longer looked like she welcomed his presence.

"Effie," he answered. "I was going to call you that. But that'll be me _assuming_ that you're the Effie whose name appears on the outside of this shop. I think I've done one too many assumptions today. You haven't introduced yourself, sweetheart. Rude, that."

He had once tried to imagine what she would be like, if she took after her mother or her father, and he remembered Lysandra Trinket being big on manners the day they met. She should have instilled the same on her children so he waited to see how Effie Trinket would react to being called rude.

"Oh! How terrible of me!" she exclaimed. "Effie Trinket, pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Her demeanour was much more relaxed now as she extended her hand to him.

He smirked. _Like my mother, like daughter._

"Haymitch Abernathy," he clasped her proffered hand.

"I am still certain I have seen you somewhere before! Did you follow me from anywhere?" she teased.

"The only interesting thing I've seen in this country so far is the light and water show…"

"That must be it! I was there yesterday," she beamed. "I likely saw you in passing, hence the familiarity."

 _And the two weeks before,_ he added silently.

"Yeah, that must be it," he shrugged, hoping she would put the matter to rest now.

XxX

The only indication that perhaps something was not right was the incessant tapping of her finger against the side of her phone as they waited for their _Grab_ car.

"I have to warn you," she said, turning her body slightly to face him, "there is nothing interesting to it."

"Got it," he nodded curtly. "Is that the car?"

"It is an entirely boring process and not one you should saddle yourself with on your free day."

"It doesn't bother me. Like I said, sweetheart, I just want to see more of this city."

"Hmm," she hummed, not entirely convinced by it. "I do have a name that is _not_ ' _sweetheart_ '."

He faced her, a contemplative look on his face.

"You don't want me to come," Haymitch stated.

"You are correct. I do not know you."

"That's a fair point," Haymitch conceded. "Thought if it was so boring, you could use the company but… Your loss then," he took a step and lightly brushed passed her. "See you around, sweetheart."

"Tell me, Haymitch, are you here to steal my business?"

He stopped dead in his track at the absurdity of her question.

"What?"

"I just find it suspicious that you want to come with me while I scout for venues for an outdoor wedding."

He chuckled but she did indeed look perturbed.

" _That_ didn't even cross my mind. I know nothing 'bout weddings. I just want to see more places before I leave. Look at this way… You can do your job and at the same time, act as a guide for me. Works well, yeah? We both benefit from it."

"What is it that you do exactly?" she narrowed her eyes. "You said you're here on business but you never said what kind of business."

"That's cause it's on a need to know basis so I can't tell you."

"That's exactly what someone who is trying to steal some else's business might say!"

"Sweetheart - "

"Effie," she insisted.

"Effie," he amended because he needed to get through to her. "Even if I quit my job, _your_ business is the last thing I wanna get into. You don't want me around, that's fine. No need to go accusing me of somethin' that ain't true."

She studied him before letting out a breath.

"My apologies," she said. "I just had to make sure. Everything is a little…surreal. From seeing you out of the window of my shop to … here. If you tell me something about yourself, I will let you come along," she compromised with a little challenge of her own. "You seem to me like the sort of man who keeps things to yourself so why don't you tell me _something_."

Haymitch resisted the urge to roll his eyes. If there was one thing he disliked, it was talking about himself. But it was his job to earn her trust and that was what she was asking of him, that he give her something that could make him appear a little trustworthy to her.

He was a stranger to her and she was not wrong to be wary.

He needed time with her and he could not afford to blow this out of the water. So when the car pulled up in front of them, he opened the door and slid in, leaving her to enter the car from the other side. She glared at him as she closed the door.

"Well?"

"Tell you on the way," he said, slipping his hand inside his pocket to touch the familiar silver flask.

He wanted a drink as he thought through the pieces of this absurd situation he was in that he could tell her.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like how their meeting went! Leave me a review with your thoughts :)
> 
> Grab is an app, very much like Uber, but only works in South East Asia.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Haymitch decided that the weather here was fickle. It started pouring rather heavily the moment they entered the car and not ten minutes later, it stopped only for the sun to shine as ferociously as ever.

He pulled the flask from his pocket only to put it back, thinking it might not be appropriate to do so in someone else's car.

"I'm from Helen, Georgia," he told her, having stalled long enough. "There's nothing much to me, nothin' interesting. Used to own a business with a friend, Chaff, and uh, thought that was over until recently. I thought I was out… got pulled back in," he threw that reference at her and she nodded with a knowing smile. "I've got geese back home to fill my time."

"Such a peculiar choice of pet," she commented. "This business that you thought you were out of, is that the reason you're here?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"That reference makes me think what you're doing might have a dangerous edge to it. Is it? I cannot imagine why anyone would risk it here. Are you involved in something drug related? Because if you are then I have to warn you that that carries the death penalty and I would like to cease all contact with you right now. I've built a life for myself here and you will _not_ disrupt it," she added.

Her question certainly drew a dirty look from their driver.

Haymitch chuckled.

"Nothing like that, sweetheart. Calm you overactive imagination. What I do ain't dangerous, at least not anymore, especially not _this_ one. Doesn't seem dangerous to me," he gave her a once over but she didn't seem to catch his meaning. "This job is the first that I had to fly out of the States for."

"Isn't that a good experience to have?" she offered him a smile.

"What's _your_ story, sweetheart? How'd you end up here?"

XxX

The humidity that encased the city-island after the rain was almost unbearable. Within minutes of stepping out from the car, he had already begun to perspire. Effie, he noticed, came prepared with a handheld fan and an umbrella.

"What exactly are you looking for?"

"An outdoor wedding venue, as I've told you," she informed him. "I do have a place in mind that I want to recommend my clients. So right now I am more interested in scouting for places where my clients might be able to have an outdoor photoshoot."

Haymitch snorted derisively.

"I thought you're a boutique. That means only wedding clothes, yeah?"

"I started out as such but I have since moved on to bigger things. I now provide a comprehensive wedding package. Wedding is a stressful time - "

"Wouldn't know," he muttered.

" - so what I aim to do is to take that stress off from the bride and groom which would leave _all_ the planning to me – venue, photography, wedding invitation cars and cake, door gifts. _Everything._ "

"You could just say wedding planner," he retorted.

"When I started, I focused more on customising and tailoring wedding clothes. I didn't dare do more because... Well, the culture for one! I had to watch and learn. Slowly, I ventured out when I began to get an idea of how things are done. For example, do you know that for some here, there is a henna night two days before the wedding?"

Her voice had taken on a slightly higher pitch in excitement.

"No, don't know anything 'bout that."

It was a mistake because she seemed eager to share the knowledge with him and he quickly realised that Effie Trinket could talk without stopping for breath.

"I have been to one quite recently. What an experience, truly," she exclaimed. "It is a pre-wedding celebration so a henna artist will be called to decorate on the hands and feet of the bride to be. Purely aesthetic, I should think. The bride's female friends and relatives are invited too for the henna to be done on their hands. I do not provide that service, of course, but what I quickly realised was that I could send photographers and videographers down for the event. It is the same with the Chinese wedding tea ceremony. That is how I get into the business - I do what I can where I can. I have to play it smart. I have contracts with different wedding vendors and together, I provide a comprehensive package."

Haymitch nodded where appropriate as he walked next to her. They had just passed a row of shop houses and restaurants with an outdoor setting, which was currently empty because of the heat, when a call for prayer rang out in the vicinity.

Without missing a beat, she switched from talking about her wedding services to an unofficial appointed tour guide and gestured to a general direction behind him.

"Sultan Mosque is over there. It is considered one of the most important mosque here _and_ a national monument," she explained. "That's the one with the gold dome, the crescent moon and star. Now come along, we have a schedule to keep to."

She led the way, walking along foot paths and crossing roads before they finally emerged on a one-way lane.

 _Haji Lane_ , he read the green street sign.

The stark contrast between the roads he just left behind and the long, narrow alley he just stepped into was glaring. Where there were the usual clean and empty painted walls, the walls here were decorated top to bottom with art and graffiti. Even the walls of the shophouses were painted in varying different colours. It made the stretch of lane popped out and it was eye-catching.

"One of my clients requested something... _hipster,"_ Effie explained. "What do you think?"

"Uh... Looks trendy enough to fit the bill," he muttered, not all expecting her to ask for _his_ opinion on the matter.

"I certainly thought so," she beamed. "Take a look at that letterbox... How vintage. The area and background makes for a nice place to have a pre-wedding photoshoot. It is unlike the rest of modern Singapore. The architecture is inherently different."

He could see that without her having to point it out.

"Oh, but on second thought, you can find the same type of shophouses at Chinatown and Little India too but as I've told you, the 'trendy' factor... This place has it."

"Right."

"I noticed your flask while we were in the car," she commented out of the blue. "If you enjoy your drinks and if you're one for a night life, there are plenty of bars around this stretch of road. Wouldn't that be a good opportunity for you to meet other people – tourists and locals alike?"

"Not interested," he waved the suggestion away. "You come here often?"

"Only when I crave for Mexican food," she answered and it was only when he saw the twinkle in her eyes that he understood that she was teasing. "They do have Mexican food just around the corner. I came across it about six months after I came to Singapore. If you're feeling adventurous, by the main road, there is a restaurant that allows you to dine in complete darkness."

"Why would I do that?"

"To enhance your other four senses, of course," she deadpanned. "Your olfactory senses when you get a whiff of the food, your sense of touch," she went on and rested her hand on the skin of his arm. "Your hearing…"

"I get the point," he interrupted and moved his hand away.

"This place attracts the young like a moth to a flame. There are numerous café that sprouted here and these youngsters are often café-hopping. You will also meet fashionista here looking for exotic products with a little taste of eccentricity. Not truly my style."

He eyed her skeptically.

"You know a lot about this place," he commented.

"I did my research once and I _observe,_ " she threw him an indulgent smile. "By that junction there, if you walk further down, you'll be in Arab Street. That is where I purchase the textiles and fabrics necessary for my wedding gowns. There are all types of textiles that you can find here that are imported from Thailand, India, Europe, just to name a few. I was even told that some members of the royal family from Malaysia and Brunei would drop by to get theirs from the very same shop that I bought mine. Imagine that!" she trilled and laughed quietly, covering her mouth with her hand. "But that could also be dear Mr. Ahmed bragging. Would you like to take a look at the shop sometime?"

 _Not really_ , he wanted to say but he merely shrugged in response.

She deemed his answer satisfactory enough because she did not press him on it. Instead, she wandered off to one of the graffiti walls. Haymitch took the chance while she was busy surveying the area and making notes on her tablet to snap a photo of her, under the pretense of taking a photo of the scenery, of course, just in case she caught him in the act.

He sent that photo of her to her parents as proof more than anything else, that he had found _and_ met her. He sent the same to Chaff and Beetee too, for their record.

Then he snapped photos of the sceneries, for real this time, and texted it to the kids back home.

It was then that his phone chimed with an incoming text message.

**_Let me speak to my daughter – LT._ **

_Can't - will blow my cover._

Just as he responded, another came in from Effie's father.

**_You've done well, Mr. Abernathy. Now that Lysandra and I have sufficient proof that you are indeed with her, we shall arrange for young Prim to meet her tutor – ST._ **

He could only stare at the screen in disbelief. That man had a lot of nerve and Haymitch was quickly growing annoyed.

_That wasn't the deal. She's supposed to have a tutor already._

He was not aware that they were withholding Prim's education based on _his_ progress with their daughter.

"Haymitch..." she touched his arm gently. "Is everything alright? You are glaring at your phone as if it had personally offended you."

"Just somethin' back home," he grumbled. "You done here?"

If she was taken aback by his abrupt dismissive tone, she did not show it.

"I have to admit, I do find you curious," she lamented.

"That's not the sort of thing you tell people, yeah?"

"I tend to speak my mind," she admitted the through.

Her fingers grazed his upper arm fleetingly to guide him down Baghdad Street, passed the rows of white tents which she told him would be for the night market in a few hours before they emerged down the same lane where he first saw the mosque.

"I believe you are the kind of man to appreciate honesty, are you not, Haymitch?"

He could only describe that as a playful grin when her lips curled upwards and she turned slightly to look back at him over her shoulder.

Haymitch realised he was staring but the way she carried herself with confidence, the way she acted, the things that came out of her mouth fascinated him and _she_ found _him_ curious? That comment about honesty made something in him twinge painfully, as if she was trying to hint at something deeper.

Perhaps she knew.

Or perhaps, it was _his_ guilt twisting her words. He was playing her right now and at some point, he would have to tell her the truth about who he is and what he was sent to do.

"You never answered my question," Haymitch pointed out when he caught up with her.

"What was it?" she asked politely.

"What's your story? Why'd you decided to set up shop here?"

"That corner shop sells very good tea or so I've heard," Effie pointed, evading the topic.

That didn't interest him.

"Got somethin' to hide, sweetheart?" he pressed. "Now you're makin' _me_ curious."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! What are your thoughts on Stefan Trinket slyly handling Haymitch through Prim? What do you think of Haymitch's and Effie's unplanned outing? I hope you like the chapter and thanks for reading!
> 
> Funfact: The 'Sultan' in Sultan Mosque means king in the Malay language (which is my mother tongue). Also that bit about the members of the royal family buying fabric from a shop in Arab Street was something my grandparents told me when I was young. I don't know if it's true but everything there is expensive so it could be. The tea stall exist and sells the best 'teh sarbat', imo.
> 
> I realise that some people ask for photos of places I mention so photos will be attached at the end of my post on tumblr.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The san sank lower in the horizon, bathing the sky in bright orange and ombre pink. Haymitch sat across from her, his fingers curled around the neck of the wine bottle.

When there was a lull in the conversation, he poured her another drink – her second glass tonight. _Loose tongue talks,_ he rationalised.

"There's nothing to it really," Effie said.

"Heard that one before," Haymitch teased. "Might even come from me – should I get that patented, you think?"

"Oh, shush. You're not the only one allowed a mystery."

"I don't have a mystery. I just don't have a story worth telling. But you do, don't you? How'd you end up here? Come on, sweetheart, I'm curious."

"I wanted to make a name for myself. That's it – plain and simple. I had designs of dresses and clothes, an entire portfolio from when I was a teenager. It has always been something I enjoyed doing. I had plans to make it into my career. I imagined a boutique with my name on it. That was my dream, one that I had to cast aside because of my mother's."

Haymitch listened without interrupting. Her eyes had taken on a faraway look, as if just by recounting it all, she had been transported to a time long gone.

"I was a child star," she told him and waited for that flicker of recognition in his eyes. When there was none, the quiet sound coming from her was actually Effie laughing in delight. "After that, it was modelling for brands, just like my mother when she first started. My sister was smarter than I was. She found something she enjoyed doing – cooking, if you would believe it – made her own show from it and when that wrapped after a few seasons, she quickly left the entertainment industry. She found a reputable man my mother approved of and never looked back."

"My brother left the modelling business just as well and started his family which he used as an excuse not to go back. It also meant that all the pressure for a family legacy – my mother's legacy - fell on me. I was the only one left she could pressure into making a name, just as her mother pressured her into it. By then, I had moved out and found a place of my own, and still, she loomed over me. Eirene, my sister, doesn't say it but I believe she still feels guilty about leaving since I had to bear the brunt of it. I began to realize that wherever I went people knew me as Lysandra Trinket's daughter. Have you heard of her? You must have."

Here, she watched him carefully. Haymitch did not find the need to grace that with an answer since she was completely sure that everyone, including him, had heard of her famous mother.

"I am Effie Trinket, my own person. I shouldn't be defined by my mother and her career. It was… It was not the life I dreamt. Five years ago, I found my old portfolio and it … when I held it in my hand I felt something familiar rushed over me. I knew what I wanted then. My dream had always been there, lurking and this time, I want to see it through. I started sketching and designing again. I also began to reach out but I learnt that all those people only agreed to meet _me_ because of my mother and not because I had a good portfolio. They saw it as a way to gain my mother's favour. I had no plans on riding on my mother's name for success. It would be easy, yes, but there was no challenge to it, yes? No satisfaction from knowing that my success is my own. I had to step out of her shadows."

"So you came here?" he gestured around him.

"It wasn't planned," her eyes lighted up as she recalled it. "All my life, I planned everything carefully to the minute details but not this time. I took a map to my nephew, told him to close his eyes and point. Wherever that is, that is where I'll go. I ended up in Italy!" she told him with a grin. "That was four years ago. I lived there a year. It didn't work out."

A quick mental calculation of the timeline brought him to the realisation that that would be when her parents sent Seneca Crane after her and she fled.

"All was not lost though. That one year taught me a lot. I brought my sketches and designs to life and began selling from my small apartment. I did not have a shop but when I settled here in Singapore, it was something I wanted, something I needed to prove to myself that I could do it. Here was perfect, too. It's far away from my family, very far. They can be quite… suffocating," she trailed off, twirling her wine in the glass. "Do you have a family, Haymitch? Parents that expect you to conform to _their_ standards..?"

"They're dead," he said flatly. "Never knew what they'd except from me."

Usually, he would refrain from talking about his family with just anyone but he could offer her that at the very least for the things she just shared with him.

What he wasn't expecting was her hand reaching across the table to squeeze his.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Haymitch."

"Yeah," he nodded slowly. "It was a – It was a long time ago."

She ran her thumb across his knuckle even as his hand twitched in her grip.

He had no idea what they were doing. They had somehow ended up at a restaurant across his hotel after their return from Haji Lane. Their dinner was long done and they were just drinking through the wine. From where they were seated, the buildings that made up Marina Bay Financial District glinted under the moonlight.

"It was on the plane to Singapore that I crystallised my plan. I decided that I have to find my niche, something I know I will enjoy and to focus on that. I love weddings," she declared and retracted her hand. "That's the story of how I came to own a bridal boutique with me tailoring and designing my own wedding dresses. The rest, as they say it, is history."

He raised his glass to her and she clink her glass against his, proud and pleased. They drank to that even if Haymitch desperately wanted the wine to be something stronger. Whiskey, preferably.

"I have to say, however, that I must have alarmed my father when I cleared out every single cent in my bank account right before I moved from Italy," she giggled lightly.

Her voice had taken on a slightly higher pitch and she seemed more relaxed. She wasn't drunk but the wine was doing its job in loosening her a little.

"Frankly, I was quite surprised he did not freeze my account by then which works well in my favour. I needed the money and I couldn't have him trace where all of it was going if I keep taking from it every now and then. I learnt that lesson. So I had it all transferred and to be perfectly honest, I did it to spite him too," she grinned.

"Yeah?"

Now they were getting somewhere. That bit about stepping out of her mother's shadow was a background he already knew but this hint of a tension with her father… Well, that piqued his interest.

"He never stood up for me like a father should. Didn't your father do that for you, Haymitch? Did he protect you and shield you? Even from your own mother?"

"This ain't about me," he mumbled.

He didn't want to talk about his father.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Your father didn't get you the car you wanted?" he teased.

Effie let out a breath and the strand of hair framing the side of her face flew outwards teasingly. She was quick to tuck it behind her ear, never once realising that Haymitch never took his eyes off her.

"All my life, he stood by and allowed my mother to talk me into submission. My mother is a bully now that I've thought about it. He presented me with ultimatums to keep the peace in the family. It was always about keeping my mother happy just so the house would not descend into chaos. _'Listen to your mother, Euphemia, it will make everyone's life easier,_ " she mimicked bitterly.

Now that she was talking, she couldn't seem to stop. Haymitch had a feeling that nobody had ever sat down with her to ask her about _her._ From where he was sitting, she looked sad and perhaps, a little lonely. He was guessing, all she needed was a listening ear for her to actually talk and open up.

"When I refused, he took away the contracts that I had fun doing – modelling contracts, acting contracts. It was already not something I truly wanted but he took away what little I enjoy. In return, all the offers on my lap would be contract I was half-hearted to partake in. When I tried to launch my own designs with no sponsors, no backing from current designers and above all, no knowledge or experience on how the business world operates, my father quickly put an end to it before my mother could find out and throw a fit. She would accuse me of trying to upstage her, would you believe it? I had no way out. Nobody outside the household knew of course. I have gotten quite adept at putting on the smiles for the public but the truth is my father controlled my life as much as my mother did."

The same way Stefan was controlling _him_ through Prim, Haymitch thought. At least, Lysandra Trinket was upfront with her ways. Her husband on the other hand was more subtle which, in Haymitch's books, made him more dangerous than his wife.

"They never said it to me, of course, but I was aware that they were talking about it between themselves. I'm the black sheep of the family. I do not listen to them. I argue and I am conniving when all I wanted was to do something that _I_ wanted, the same way my brother and sister did. I rebel where I could. I would ask my mother for her opinion on two dresses, for example, and whichever she chooses, I chose the opposite."

"She would want me to date that director who already made a name for himself but I would date a photographer with only small projects to his belt. She preferred me in my natural hair colour provided that I styled it appropriately, so I would dye it red to annoy her. Once, when I was twenty-six, I put on a wig for an entire year – bubblegum pink, sea green, electric blue and my favourite, _gold_ ," Effie laughed at the memory. "Twenty-six was too old an age to be acting out but that was all I could do. I've always tried to be the perfect daughter and I supposed, I put up with it long enough. I had to draw the line even when moving out from the family mansion did nothing to ease my situation. I was terrified, naturally. I led my life sheltered in my parent's world and packing my bag to leave for another country was something I never thought I could do until I was pushed to it. I do not regret my decision."

Haymitch pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled. He shouldn't have asked. He wanted to know the real reason she came to this city and got more than he bargained for. With all the knowledge that he had now, how was he supposed, in good conscience, get her to board a plane with him back to the States and never look back?

Prim was right. She was happy here. She had found her freedom and created something for herself, and he was going to be to one to ruin it.

Effie took in his reaction and assumed the worst.

"You are probably thinking - _why is she telling me all these?_ " she laughed airily. "Let me assure you, I do not usually make it a habit to talk about my personal matters with anyone. My apologies, Haymitch. I bore you, didn't I?"

"To be fair, I did ask," he offered. "Maybe it's just me, sweetheart, people open up to this face."

He said it with a straight face and that only made her laugh a little louder.

"Perhaps," she agreed with a soft smile. She rested her hand gently on the base of her throat as her gaze lingered on him. "I do feel like I could talk to you, strangely. What makes you so special?"

Haymitch cast a surprised gaze at her before he slowly blinked. Her eyes were the brightest blue and he felt as if he was being pulled into an abyss. There was something about her that made him wary. A hint of fragility and strength mixing into one, a hint of danger with the way she was looking at him. For starters, he wasn't sure if she was trying to be flirtatious or even if that was her true nature. He could be reading the signals all wrong except he made a living out of reading people so he couldn't simply ignore this excited thrill running through him.

She was beautiful and _hot_ , and it had been a while for him. Still, this was a dangerous game no matter how much he was enjoying it.

"There's nothin' special to it when your kid runs to your room with boy problems on hand," he reproached, bringing the topic back to somewhere safe while thinking of that one time Katniss had barged in on him while he was drinking. He still regretted the things he said to Katniss that day. "Wasn't in the right state of mind to help _or_ listen."

"You … have a daughter?"

"Not mine, no. I mean, she's mine… in a way, but she's also not. It's complicated," he rubbed the back of his neck. "I helped her family once while on the job. After that, both of the kids got stuck with me. Their mother's still around but she ain't totally there."

Effie had barely scratched the surface with him and he had done well not talking about himself so in an effort to appear more genuine to her, he pulled a photo of Katniss, Prim and Peeta in front of the boy's bakery shop.

"They seem like nice kids," she commented and handed his phone back.

"They are," he affirmed.

He was also reminded that he should call them before they worry especially after learning what he learnt from Stefan Trinket. He would need to talk to Prim.

Today had gone better than expected. He had made contact with his mark, who was still watching him with that soft look in her eyes that made him worry, and he had established _something_ with her. He would need to work from there but for now he was ready to call it a day.

Haymitch signalled for the bill.

"I'll get it," he told her.

Effie flashed him a smile.

 _No big deal,_ he thought, _technically, I'm paying our meal with your father's money._

"You don't have to leave a tip here. It's included in your service charge," she explained.

"Oh, right," he said, finally understanding why the waitress had tried to return the extra money he left on the table when he first arrived.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever met someone and feel you could just talk to them? Maybe that's the case with them in his chapter or maybe, Effie just needed someone willing to listen ;)
> 
> There's a lot of talking here but something interesting should happen next week! But now Haymitch knows more about Effie's parents and who he is dealing with, esp her father.
> 
> In the meantime, leave a review!


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"You _have_ to take me up there, Haymitch," she insisted, touching his arm as they stopped just in front of the hotel's entrance.

Effie Trinket, he learnt quite quickly, was a tactile person.

"It's just a pool, Effs," he rolled his eyes, not quite understanding her fascination with it.

She looked at him with an amused smile, her blue eyes glinting from the light's bright reflection in the hotel lobby.

"I like that," she grinned. "No one has used _that_ before. _Effs_ ," she tested it on her tongue. "It is definitely better than sweetheart. But, I digress! It is not just a pool, is it? It is _the_ infinity pool. I have seen photos of it on Beautiful Destinations on Instagram. I do not have the access card to it, but you do! You're a guest in this hotel."

In the end, it was easier to bring her to the highest floor of his hotel where the Infinity Pool was. He presented his guest card to the pool's roof top reception and was allowed in without a fuss.

At first glance, it seems as though there was no boundary to the pool that held the water in place. The pool stretched from one end of the roof top to the other.

"It will be amazing to watch the sunset here," she remarked. Effie plucked a flute of champagne from a waiter and wandered closer. "I've always wanted to see this for myself. I never had a chance."

"All you need to do is to book a room here, sweetheart. They'll allow you up here then. It's not that difficult."

"Up so high, the stars are on our shoulders," she hummed

The city sprawled beneath them, the lights from the skyscrapers glittered in the dark and the lights illuminating the roads snaked on and on.

"Listen, you ain't going to strip down and get into the pool, are you?"

Haymitch eyed her sceptically since he doubted that she had any plans to be up here when they crossed paths earlier and would not have any appropriate swim wear on her.

"Can you honestly say that you would be opposed to _that_?" she teased, her eyes glittering with mischief.

There it was again. She was definitely flirting with him, and as much as it pleased him and boosted his ego, he wasn't sure he liked it. She wasn't just a woman, she was his mark.

On any other circumstances, he would probably engage in the banter himself, flirt with her and made her feel comfortable. He would have taken her back to his room and by morning, they would be done but this time, he ignored it.

"Ready to go?" he asked instead. "Place will be closed in an hour anyway."

Haymitch could tell that his behaviour puzzled her.

"You are eager to get rid of me," she huffed, as if insulted. "Tell me, what do you want from me?"

When he said nothing except to level his gaze with hers, she placed her glass down and assessed him.

"I kept waiting for you to make a move but you have been honourably distant."

He scoffed. Honourable was an inappropriate word to describe him, he felt.

"Why do you spend your day with me if you're not trying to take me to bed?"

That was forward of her but he expected nothing less. Nothing surprised him nowadays and from what he knew of her, she was stubborn and self-assured but it still did not stop him from rounding up on her.

"What do you take me for?"

"I'm sorry," she raised both hands and took a step back to put some distance between them. Her gaze flitted to their surroundings but no one was paying them any attention. "I thought you were like all other men - you're here looking for some fun while on a business trip. So, it looks like you're not. I just wanted to get that out of the way. At the very least, I figured you would be interested in me."

"I'm not like other men," he scowled.

"Yes," she nodded and then admitted the next part with an acerbic laugh at herself. "You are attractive, Haymitch. I will just… I will not apologise for being attracted to you but I do apologise for assuming and putting us in this position. Today was… Don't get me wrong, whether or not you had an ulterior motive, I did have a good time with you"

He sighed. He was a master at messing things up.

"You ain't all that bad. I mean… Look at you, you're hot, sweetheart," he told her seriously. "It's not that I'm not – You've only just met me. Let's not run before we can walk."

Effie stared at him as if he had grown two heads.

"I'm not looking for an attachment," she frowned. "You are only here for a short while and I am used to my lovers coming and going, sometimes only lasting for a night. I have no desire to risk myself by having a – but oh, that's inconsequential."

Something clicked in him then and he understood it clear as day. Having left home once and then again when Seneca Crane went after, she had learnt not to form personal attachments, especially the romantic kind, just in case she needed to leave. It was easier that way. It was self-preservation and he knew a thing or two about that. In fact, he had not heard her mention any friends that she had made here. Whenever she mentioned someone in passing, which happened once or twice during dinner, it was always an acquaintance she met through her line of work.

An attachment was not one of her top priorities. She was more interested in spreading her wings and building a name for herself through her shop.

It was a lonely life, he thought.

He had been through that once before the kids – that was how he measured his life lately, _before the kids_ and _after the kids_ – and he couldn't imagine life without daily visits to Peeta's bakery or having Katniss walking in and out of his house like she owned it.

"Why would you tell a man you intend to sleep with and never meet again in the morning 'bout your life?" Haymitch asked, genuinely puzzled. "Don't seem smart."

She gasped.

" _You_ made me talk!" Effie sputtered. "You, with your ridiculous, intense grey eyes and your willingness to just _listen_ and … You made me want to share what I have been keeping to myself. This is grossly unfair. You're ridiculous."

"I'm ridiculous?" he chuckled at the accusation.

"Do not pretend to be surprised. You are – you are ridiculous. Lulling me into such a state..." She rambled.

"Hold on right there, sweetheart. You can't turn this around and … _my eyes?!_ " He shook his head. "What am I? Charles Xavier? I didn't make you do anything."

She waved his words away.

"I do not see anything wrong with telling you what I went through. It is not that different than sharing information with a therapist, is it?"

"I'm not a therapist," he stated.

"Of course, you're not. I am just saying that we can draw parallels from there. A therapist is a stranger, as are you. Besides, everyone have problems with their family. I am not ashamed of _my_ story. In fact," she jutted her chin out a little, "I am rather proud of what I have achieved and accomplished, thank you very much."

Her confidence was alluring. It was sexy and couple that with the offer she just made... Haymitch took a deep breath to strengthen his resolve.

 _I will_ not _sleep with her,_ he vowed.

"What you just did there..." he gestured, half-distracted, "that is _very_ sexy."

She stared and blinked, and then a slow, satisfied smile bloomed on her face.

"Shit," he cursed, "I fucking said that out loud, didn't I?"

"Yes."

"Sweetheart," he sighed. "I can't. I have an early day tomorrow and - "

He fell silent. He could almost hear Chaff's voice in his head – ' _that's a fucking lame excuse, buddy.'_

"This is just embarrassing for both of us," Effie shook her head slightly. "I've made a fool of myself with you and … Please accept my apologies for putting us in this position."

"You... don't have to apologise for something that you want," he muttered as if that would make the situation better.

He plunged his hand into the pocket of his jacket, feeling the familiar flask against his palm.

Effie held herself remarkably well with her chins up and plastered a bright smile on her face. She stepped forward, breaching his personal space and kissed his cheek lightly.

"I meant what I said. I really did have a good time," she told him. "It was nice meeting you and thank you for bringing me up here. I can, at least, cross infinity pool out of my list."

Haymitch grabbed her elbow and held her in place. His action made her tilt her head in puzzlement. They were standing so close that he could smell the champagne on her breath and feel the warmth from her body.

He turned this scenario in his mind. Sleeping with her would complicate things but yet, he couldn't let her leave, not after finding her.

"Do you have anything else on this list of yours?"

She wasn't stupid enough to fall for that but she also never noticed that he had slipped a small, round device he had bought previously from Sim Lim Square into her open handbag. He would never lose track of her now, provided she bring the same bag all the time.

In their proximity, her voice was soft and quiet when she spoke next, but it still weighed heavily on him.

"You need to make up your mind."

She was leaving it up to him and he wanted this. He wanted to run his hand over her soft skin. He wanted to taste the champagne on her lips. He made the mistake of lowering his gaze to the small space between them, down the v-shaped of her dress and his breath hitched at the sight of her cleavage.

Perhaps somewhere out there, someone had a stronger resolve than him to walk away but he knew he wasn't one of those men.

"Is this out of some misguided notion that you and I have a connection or some shit because of the things you just shared?" He asked, keeping his voice low. "If you think you want to sleep with me because all I did was to _listen..._ I don't want to be accused of exploiting you."

"I am many things, Haymitch, but misguided is not one of them. You would not be taking advantage of me if that is what you are worried about. We are both consenting adults after all."

Her hand fluttered to his shoulder and it rested there, light and gentle, but he was acutely aware of her fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. Somehow, he didn't think being coy was her style. Still, he couldn't help but to lean in a little closer.

His nose gently brushed against the side of her jaw, barely touching, and when he inhaled the smell of her perfume, the fingers on his collar moved to stroke the back of his neck.

"I believe," she brought her mouth to his ear, her voice honeyed and husky, "I made it clear that I want you."

His stomach coiled in anticipation and he felt the need to tame something feral growing inside him.

It was so simple for her. She knew what she wanted and she stated it without being afraid of going after it. Haymitch, who often repressed his own desires unless it was for alcohol, found that to be irresistible.

Haymitch relocated his hand from her elbow down to her waist.

"What do you want, Haymitch?" she asked. "You shouldn't deny yourself _anything_."

The stroke of her fingers on the nape of his neck was distracting and he couldn't think straight. She was a flirt and he was toeing the line between keeping his wits and letting himself go.

"You're a hedonist," he breathed into her skin, " _and_ a minx."

Goosepimples erupted on her skin and without thinking about it he kissed the spot just on the side of her neck. Haymitch heard the tinkle of her laughter as he gave in to it.

"Come with me."

He held out his hand to her and when she placed her hand in his, Haymitch tugged her towards the elevator that would take them down to his room.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been quite excited to let you read this chapter because I really enjoyed writing it! You get the chapter early this week because I'll be flying off to Malaysia in a few hours and won't be in Singapore for the weekend. So leave a review, let me know your thoughts - if Haymitch is making a good decision or what you think will happen. I'd like to come home to some reviews so don't let me down :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

In the state he was in, aroused and consumed with touching her, the walk from the elevator to his room flashed by in a blur.

Effie was all passion. She was intense and intoxicating from her kisses to her touches. His mind was buzzing and his body thrummed with desire.

Haymitch couldn't tell at which point they both got naked but she fell in his bed with an enchanting smile and he followed suit, kissing his way up from her stomach to her breasts.

When a moan escaped her lips and she wrapped her legs around his waist, he hesitated.

If they were to really do this, there would be no turning back. He could still stop it now. It would be better for _both_ of them.

"Are you sure about this?" he pulled back slightly to look at her. "I'm not who you think I am."

He was trying to warn her without revealing too much. That was the problem, wasn't it? He had not revealed anything to her except for his name and where he came from. It would be in poor taste to sleep with her when there was clearly an ulterior motive to him being here. This was clearly a line he shouldn't cross.

"You are not about to murder me, are you?" she teased, raising an eyebrow.

He sucked in a breath because her hand was between them and she was slowly stroking him, reminding him of his needs.

"Be serious, Effs," he frowned, trying to focus.

He moved her hand away but she soon found a new way to distract him by running her fingers through his hair.

"Are you going to sleep with me and then steal my business?"

"I already told you I ain't interested in your business."

He was about to steal the life she had created for herself here which was worse especially after knowing what he knew. He felt disgusted with himself and tried to untangle himself from her but she had him locked around the waist with her legs.

"Oh," she gasped, her eyes widened imperceptibly. "Do you have someone back in Georgia? A wife or a – a lover... because that is where I draw the line. I do not sleep with someone else's man."

"No one. No prospect, remember?"

"Well, then, I am sure," she confirmed.

Effie stretched to kiss him and he felt the familiar stirring in his groin.

"Seriously, sweetheart, when was the last time you had sex?" he frowned again. "You're eager."

That question clearly offended her because she pushed him off her rather suddenly. Before he could comprehend what just occurred, she was already sliding off the bed to get away from him.

"Is that truly what you think of me? That I am desperate for sex?" she demanded and shot him a murderous look. "If you are not interested in me, you should have just said so."

"I am interested," he argued. "But it's just that… You act like it, you know?"

"I can't believe you! I am not – I am _not_ a tramp."

"I didn't say that," he countered.

"I just happen to enjoy it! Men," Effie scoffed, grabbing her dress from the floor. "You think only _you_ are allowed to enjoy the act of -"

"I ran my mouth but that was not what I meant and you know it. You're twisting words – what the fuck is happening?" he exhaled and ran his hand through the knots in his hair.

He was confused. They had gone from being passionate to having a full blown argument when all he had tried was to do something right. It had clearly backfired.

"I can always find someone else," she tossed the words at him, not even caring about his reaction. "I assure you, there will be other men who will throw themselves at my feet. The fact that you did not was what I found interesting and attractive about you. My mistake - you are clearly uncomfortable being with a woman much better looking than you."

"Wow – okay. You need to keep that overconfidence in check," he said snidely.

"You have already thought the worst of me. This was a mistake."

By now, she had clasped her bra and he was truly sorry to see the sight of her breasts covered. He was slightly sober now. The haze of lust was dissipating but everything was falling apart.

"Come on, don't do that," he reached out to take her hand when she slipped the dress over herself. "You don't have to go."

"What exactly do you expect me to do? Stay here and have a drink with you? Pretend that I am not embarrassed and mortified?"

Effie grabbed her phone and pointedly ignored him for the next few seconds.

"Red really suits you, it brings the anger in your eyes," he mumbled.

He was digging his own grave, he knew.

"My Uber will be here soon," she announced and took her handbag from the armchair.

Effie glanced at him and at the sight of him half-hard, she scoffed. She left his room without a backward glance.

With a groan, Haymitch collapsed on the bed and pressed a pillow to his face only to throw it aside a second later from sheer frustration when he realised that the pillow smelt of her hair.

He rummaged through his belongings on the floor – shirts and trousers – before eventually locating his phone. From the application Beetee had installed on his phone, the small blue dot was steadily moving towards the Eden Residences at the Capitol where she was staying.

There was that then.

He called Chaff and after some long rings, he finally answered.

"I fucked up," Haymitch blurted out. "She ran off."

"You came clean to her? Told her about bringing her home?"

"I didn't," Haymitch gritted his teeth. Goodness, he had not even gotten to that point with her yet. "She – uh – she came up to my room with me. She was fucking naked in my bed, Chaff."

"What?" Chaff spat at his sheer stupidity. "I'd congratulate you on any other circumstances with any _other_ woman but you know better than this. You don't sleep with your target. I shouldn't even be telling you this. It's just gonna complicate things. Don't get attached. She's just an assignment... a mission for you."

"You can quit lecturing me on that cause nothin' happen, alright? I didn't sleep with her. Nothing fucking happen."

"What is that supposed to mean? You just said she was naked in _your_ bed. What were you doing? Painting her like one of your French girls? Painting is more of Peeta's thing than yours," Chaff chuckled.

"She seduced me. I let her," Haymitch muttered angrily. He should have never let it get that far. "She's … really something. You should have seen her."

"Alright, buddy," Chaff said in a placating manner. "So you brought her to your room, got her naked and before you can have sex with her, she... what happened exactly? How did you fuck this whole thing up?"

"I couldn't do it. She doesn't know who I am and it felt wrong to lead her on like that. She thought I was here on business."

"You are there on business," Chaff pointed out.

"She doesn't know what for, does she?" Haymitch spat. "I tried to warn her, give her a chance to turn back."

"So you tried to be _noble_ ," Chaff said with a roll of his eyes, Haymitch imagined.

"I tried to do the right thing," Haymitch hissed.

"The right thing would be to not invite her to your room."

He wondered why he even called Chaff. Sure, Chaff had a right to know the status of the assignment here but he was also getting on Haymitch's nerves.

"What made her run away?"

 _In for a penny, in for a pound_ , the thought flitted through his mind. He was the one to call Chaff so he might as well just tell the whole truth.

"It might have sounded as if I accused her of being desperate for sex when she insisted on … going through with it," Haymitch winced. "Whole thing came off wrong."

Chaff's loud, booming chortle made Haymitch cursed and promptly hung up the phone in annoyance. His friend called back not long later, with a half-bake apology he didn't truly mean.

"Look on the bright side," Chaff said in between laughter. "She found you desirable enough to want to sleep with you. No comment on that pouch on your stomach, huh?"

"Like you're in a better shape than me," Haymitch retorted

"It's not as bad as I thought. It isn't the first time you ran your mouth and offended someone, yeah? She's just offended. The mission can still be salvaged. Go to back to the bridal store tomorrow or her house, and I don't know how you're gonna do it, but you fix it. Apologise or grovel or get her something fancy."

"Get her something fancy?" Haymitch snorted. "She ain't my girl, man."

"You don't have to take my suggestion but you don't screw this for both of us, Haymitch. Think of what is on the line here. I wasn't expecting you to strike that sort of deal with the Trinkets but since you did, it just put thoughts in my head, you know? It'll be nice to have our records gone."

He didn't need that reminder. He was well aware of what was on stake here, for Prim and for them.

After the conversation ended, Haymitch opened a fresh bottle of whiskey and drank until it dulled the sharpness of his mind, and he couldn't have any clear thoughts. He fell asleep to the recent memories of Effie undressing and stepping out of her dress, the insistent caresses and to the whispers in his ear when he touched her in a way that made the blue of her eyes darkened with desire.

The thoughts clearly had an influence on his dream because he was startled awake hours later with a hard-on, which he would have taken care of except for the loud knocking on his door. Using the bed cover to wrap around his himself for decency, he staggered to the door. The sunlight filtering through the crack of the curtain was too bright and too sharp for his eyes.

Her hand connected his cheek with a resounding crack. The slap stung his face and he was startled enough by the attack that he groaned in pain.

It seemed unnecessarily extreme given that it was morning and she had had hours to calm down from yesterday. Haymith tried to get a word in and make sense of what garnered that reaction from her.

Of course, she didn't let him.

" _Haymitch Abernathy,_ " she began reading from the tablet in her hand while still standing at the hallway, " _is a_ _focused and dedicated licensed investigator._ _Johnson's Investigation is equipped with specialised investigation skills and surveillance technology. We undertake commercial_ and _personal cases, from marital affairs to corporate fraud."_

His blood ran cold.

"So where exactly do I fall under, Haymitch? Commercial or _personal_?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what they say about Murphy's Law- things that can go wrong, will go wrong for Haymitch. He's losing touch.
> 
> This was another chapter I was excited for you to read too, so excited in fact that I wrote Chap 8,9 and 10 all in the same day a few weeks ago. So I really can't wait to read your reactions to it from your reviews!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

She was glorious, he thought, as she stared him down, shaking with repressed with anger.

"I wanted to tell you," he told her.

"Yes, I supposed that is what you meant by _'I'm not who you think I am',_ she remarked snidely. "It is not very illuminating though, is it? Hardly informational."

With a sigh, Haymitch ran his hand down his face. "Sweetheart, I couldn't – How was I supposed to tell you who I am without compromising the job? You wouldn't have given me the time of day."

"I do not know what you hope to achieve but what were you thinking?" she snapped. "That I wouldn't check on you…? You have a website running for crying out loud. You are a terrible… spy!"

"I ain't a spy," he mumbled. "That website was never an issue _before_. I never had to make contact with my... They aren't usually trying to run away that I actually had to hide who I am."

"What was that?"

Haymitch shot her a look then took a peek down the corridor. All the doors were closed. Stepping back, Haymitch gestured for her to come in but the hesitation played across her face. Between entering a room with a man who had hidden something and was clearly hiding more and fleeing back to the safety of her apartment, the side that yearned to know the truth won.

Effie stormed in.

He shut the door quietly. No need to attract any attention their way.

"Put on some pants," she hissed. "I refuse to have this conversation with someone _naked_."

"Why's that? Scared you might throw yourself at me again, sweetheart?"

"Since you have not seen yourself in the mirror, then allow me to inform you that the mark my hand left behind is still red and fresh on the right side of your cheek. I have no qualms adding another on your left."

The memory of that slap made him scowl but it was also enough for him to grab his pants off the floor. He found an undershirt and put it on, just in case talking to him bare-chested was also a problem for her.

There was something about her that was captivating. She stood straight and tall, and petite as she was, Effie had a commanding presence in his room that made it very difficult for him to ignore her.

"You want to maybe, take a seat or something?" he muttered.

"My father sent you, didn't he?"

The loud sigh coming from him only served to irritate her further because she frowned. Haymitch, on the other hand, couldn't have this discussion without a drink so he poured himself a glass. He would have drank straight from the bottle but he needed to do something with his hands and pouring himself a drink would buy him just a little bit of time.

"Did he?" Effie demanded.

"You already know the answer to that," Haymitch gritted his teeth.

"You _lied_ to me."

It was frightening just how calm she sounded but he was no fool. He thought of a crocodile swimming beneath the surface of a seemingly calm river.

"Yeah, well, I've never lie to you, sweetheart. I'm here on business that's still the truth. I've just never told you that _you_ are that business. See, there's a difference."

"I am trying really hard not to slap you again although the temptation is there. You are infuriating. Withholding the truth is lying no matter what you said."

"Lying is telling you something that ain't true and not factual in nature. I did nothin' like that," he smirked because despite the seriousness of the situation he was beginning to enjoy this back and forth banter they were having.

"Oh, you snake," she exploded and then composed herself with a series of deep breaths. "What does my father want?"

"He wants you home. The same thing when he sent Seneca Crane after you. It was Crane, yeah, that made you flee from Italy?"

"So my father… He hired you?"

"Yeah," Haymitch nodded, watching her.

"I thought I found someone that … You seemed sincere," she said in a small whisper. "I supposed I have always been a terrible judge of character. What were you planning on doing, Haymitch? Become a friend to me and then betray me? Oh, I am _so_ glad I found out early."

"No," he shook his head. "I didn't think it through. I'm never like this. I've never given in to my - I always have a plan but then I saw you at the light show … I went to your boutique the day after and before I could – you came to me and the whole thing got away. I never wanted to sleep with you – "

"That is just marvellous, isn't it? You are doing wonders to my pride."

"Dammit, Effs, I didn't want to sleep with you 'cause I didn't want you to think that I made use of you. Do you fucking understand? It's got nothin' to do with whether or not you're desirable because you and I both know that you are."

"What was my father's instruction to you?"

"I'm supposed to convince you come home."

"He never gives up," Effie said with a slow shake of her head. "I do not wish to go home, Haymitch."

"I know," he let out a breath and dropped at the edge of the bed. "I heard your story and I understand why you left. I realised how fucked the situation is, alright? I almost wish I hadn't asked," he chuckled. "It doesn't make my job here easy."

She stood over him and crossed her arms.

"So leave," she declared. "Book a flight, leave Singapore and leave me alone. Tell my father you couldn't find me."

"I can't do that. He knows we've met."

He lifted his gaze to her and all he wanted to do was to make the frown disappear. Haymitch reached out, purposefully, and rested his hand on her hip. She clicked her tongue in disapproval but the caress of his thumb against her hipbone was insistent.

"It's not so easy, Effie."

He tugged on her hand until she unfolded them and guided her towards the bed. She took a seat next to him.

"It ain't right what I did," he started talking and chance a glance in her direction. "But we ain't friends or anything more so… You don't have to feel betrayed."

She scoffed.

"You led me on," Effie accused. "Imagine if our position was reversed."

He would have lost his temper. He would have thought that she had purposely seduced him into….

"Fine, then I'm sorry 'bout _that_ ," he told her. "I am, okay? Now that you already know… Maybe we can talk 'bout it, come up with something that benefits everyone."

He felt her incredulous gaze on him, silently thinking he was an idiot, probably.

"Oh, let's hear it then, your brilliant plan."

"You sister is getting married," he informed her, waiting to see her surprise at what he thought would be news to her but there was none. It puzzled him. "So … Why don't you just come home for that, huh? My job will be done 'cause you being at your sister's wedding seems like all your mother cares about – a complete family for the paparazzi. When the wedding's over, you leave. There's that loophole in my deal with your father."

"Eirene is well aware that I will not be attending her wedding," Effie announced. "But, for your information, I have been planning my sister's wedding with her every step of the way. In fact, I designed her wedding dress. Cinna, a friend of mine, back home will bring the dress to life."

"What?" he sputtered. "You're in contact with your sister? She knew all along where you were?"

"Of course, she does. She's my sister. Unlike my parents, Eirene has always been on my side. I have nothing against her or my brother. It is Marius, my sister's fiancé, who helped me with my shop here. I knew nothing about registering and setting up a business. He helped me with the funding to get me started. My sister has been sworn to secrecy and she knows I am happy here. She knows what being at her wedding with my parents would do to me. She would _never_ force me into that. We made plans, Haymitch, for my sister and her fiancé to come by Singapore after their wedding before they embark on their honeymoon. It was either that or for me to meet them halfway."

"Well, shit."

"I am afraid you've been played," she told him softly. "How much are you being paid? How much money are my parents spending on you? I can… I can always out pay them but in return, please leave and do not come looking for me anymore."

"I don't think so," he told her. "I have a job to finish, sweetheart."

"Just give me a figure I can work with, Haymitch," she insisted. Her voice had taken on an edge and she was riled up again with his refusal.

"You can't out pay them because your parents aren't paying me in cash," he informed her.

"What do they have over your head?"

"Nothin'. But it ain't cash that they're giving me once I get you home," he said. "You're not the only one with problems, sweetheart. I have them too but at least I'm not runnin' away from them. I'm trying to deal with it by takin' on this job. They pulled me out of my 'retirement' for this."

She was back to staring at him and something loathsome danced in her eyes.

"You are despicable. I told you about myself and now you are using it against me. I should have known that no one can be trusted. You really are ugly for manipulating me that way."

"And you're just like the parents you never wanted to be in the first place," he spat, now equally annoyed and stressed over the fact that she was slipping between his fingers which meant losing Prim's tuition and his record being public knowledge. "You think money can buy everything."

She made sure to slam the door on her way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think of her confrontation with Haymitch? Or her offer to Haymitch to outpay her parents? Let me know your views :)


	11. Chapter 11

** Chapter 11 **

** **

Crossing the living room out into the porch, the sudden gloom that encased the room was the first thing Haymitch noticed. He saw the tail end of her braid swished out sight from the corner of his eyes and he followed her in that direction.

Katniss was loading her belongings on to the back of Peeta’s truck. Her mouth was set in a line, her face grim. Sensing his presence, Prim glanced once behind her shoulder at him, her features sad and crestfallen. At the look Katniss shot her, she climbed into the passenger seat without a word to him.

“Katniss,” he pleaded, almost helplessly. “Don’t do this.”

It fell on deaf ears. Peeta turned the key and the engine rumbled into life.

“Peeta,” Haymitch called out.

“I’m sorry,” he dropped his head in regret and drove off, leaving Haymitch standing and staring until the truck disappeared from view.

When he eventually entered his house some time later, the gloom gave way to horror. It was filled with the faces of forty-six children whose death he blamed himself for. He stumbled back in surprise and clutched the door for support. This was the reason the kids left because if it was up to him, he would not want to stay in a house filled with ghost.

An ominous whisper broke over the collective, unintelligible murmur in the room. “You could have saved us. You could have stopped it.”

“I can’t,” he choked out a strangled admission.

They surged forward towards him, their hands outstretched as if to strangle the life out of him and that was when Haymitch woke up with a start.

The sheet was tangled around his feet. A trail of perspiration was running down his chest despite the cooling draft from the air-conditioner. Haymitch felt under the pillow for the knife and he held it in the palm of his hand, finding the weight of it familiar and reassuring.

His nightmares often started and ended the same way; with the three kids leaving him and him finding himself trapped with ghosts of his past.

His breathing was still heavy and ragged when he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Haymitch screwed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. His past often clawed back at him unexpectedly and often at stressful triggers which he tried to avoid by drowning himself at the bottom of a bottle.

The years before were as vivid as if it was only yesterday. He had been on a mission and was gathering intel for the agency when it all went wrong. The information given to his superior officers led to an operation that caused the death of civilians and among those were forty-six children. It was the children that haunted him most.

The tragedy then triggered a massive investigation which was only concluded last year and the report… Well, it would be made public soon.

There were long late nights talk with Chaff about this and somewhere along the line they both felt that they deserved it. He would have accepted it even except now, things were different. Now, there was Katniss, Peeta and Prim and he couldn’t stand to bear their disgust and judgment once the truth came to light. He wanted to _matter_ to them and he wanted to be a part of their lives.

Making his way to the bathroom, Haymitch washed his face with cold water. He stared at the mirror, thinking of ways to salvage the situation with Effie because that was the only way he could save himself with the three kids.

Once he was dressed, he checked his phone to see if there were any messages from Stefan Trinket about his daughter. Since she left, she could have contacted her father to give him a piece of her mind for all he knew but since there were no messages from the old man, he assumed that Effie had kept it to herself.

He decided to give her a few days to allow her time to cool down, logically deducing that she might not even want to meet him.

Even so, he did keep his eyes on her whereabouts through the tracker. She spent her days at the boutique and some nights at Clarke Quay where he knew there was an abundant of nightlife activities to indulge in at the various bars, clubs and restaurants. On the fifth day, her tracker went off the radar.

It spurred him into action and he went down to her boutique.

“Miss Trinket is at Bangkok. She’ll be back in two days. Shall I book an appointment for you?”

That would explain it. The tracker went out of range.

“Vacation?” he asked.

“She’s on a business meeting with a supplier. Now, about that appointment – “

He left without a word and two days later, her tracker went back online as she landed at Changi Airport. He breathed a sigh of relief.

A week was more than enough so that very night Haymitch took a taxi down to Little India. He alighted and glanced around. This place did not suit Effie Trinket’s personality or places of interest and yet, her tracker was pulsing at this very spot on his GPS.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she exclaimed when she caught sight of him approaching. “I thought you left!”

“Hello, sweetheart,” he greeted amicably. “Long time no see.”

"I would prefer to keep it that way."

Haymitch chuckled. She was feisty and he definitely was not expecting this to go smoothly without a fight on her part.

"Where are you headed? I don't mind joining."

She huffed in disbelief at his audacity.

“I have had a long day so I am heading home to _sleep_ and rest. You are certainly _not_ invited.”

“You’ll be surprised in what I'm interested in,” he countered, still maintaining a smile on his face. “Tell me about this long day you had...”

"I do not think for a second that you are truly interested in my day," she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

"Just wanted to keep the conversation going," Haymitch answered. He ducked in time just as a pigeon took flight, narrowly missing his head. "Where were you from?"

"I had an event, a wedding dinner."

“Did you go on your own? No plus one? You know, if you ever need company...."

"No, thank you. I assure you I am not in the habit of associating myself with a liar."

His lips quirked in a smirk and with a slight shake of his head, he said, "I'm not a liar, sweetheart. I just had a job to do. It's out in the open now so why don't you give me a chance to do my job and persuade you that going home might be a good idea?"

"You will learn that I am not so easily convinced," Effie retorted.

"And you'll learn that I like a challenge."

There was something about the annoyed look she threw his way that made him chuckle quietly to himself. They walked next to each other quietly, neither engaging in a conversation. Haymitch took his time watching his surrounding and the people in the area. He took photos of the streets and the sceneries to send it to the group chat that Peeta had created for them. He received a reply almost immediately from Prim with a photo of Lady, the goat - " _my view_ ". With a fond smile at Prim's antic, Haymitch pocketed his phone only to see Effie watching him.

“Explain to me what a private investigator is doing out here, stalking a woman who is not involve in any extra marital affairs or company fraud?” Effie did not break her stride as she talked. “Somehow, persuading me to return home does not seem to be the job of an investigator, is it?”

“No, it’s not,” he agreed, “ _but_ it’s the job of an investigator to investigate and track their mark down.”

Effie scoffed. “I have been reduced to just a mark.”

At the main road, he could hear the vehicles passing by but the small road they were walking at was quiet and empty at this time of the night.

“I haven’t investigated anything in a while. Chaff founded the firm after we left our… organisation,” he explained. “We used to split the job equally – fraud and marital affairs. I wanted to help and proving someone’s spouse cheated on them doesn’t seem like helping to me. Sure, the pay’s good but…” he shrugged. “Chaff went on to do that on his own while our firm was still operating but I started takin’ my own cases. Missing people, mostly.”

“You said while your firm was operating,” Effie frowned. “Is it not operating now?”

“It dwindled over the past couple of years. I haven’t had a case in a while either. The last one left a bad taste in my mouth so I just stop. I didn’t want to take your case, sweetheart. Your parents pulled me out of my house and into this.”

“Nonsense,” she clicked her tongue. “You always have a choice. My parents must have made an offer you couldn’t refuse.”

“Guess they did.”

“And please,” she turned towards him, “put your drink away. This is a liquor control zone.”

"What the hell does that mean?"

Effie pointed to the sign mounted on a pole by the road side. “You are not allowed to drink at any public spaces after 10.30 pm so put that away. You are however still allowed to drink at a licensed premise. Perhaps you would like to take that to a nearest bar?”

“Nice attempt trying to get rid of me,” he chuckled but the sign was there for him to read. He pocketed his flask.

She struggled to keep a small smile off her face and Haymitch counted that as a win on his part. With a shake of her head, she continued walking. He fell in step next to her.

“Why missing people?”

“Just something ‘bout seeing a family reunited,” he admitted.

“You are a strange man, Haymitch Abernathy. I never pegged you for the sentimental kind.”

He shrugged.

“What happened at your last case?”

“Uh,” he let out a breath, hesitating.

She glanced at him. “You are entitled to your secrets. What I said the first time we met is true, isn’t it. You are a very private man.”

Effie paused to let him refute it but when he did not, she said, “It is late. I really should head home.”

She hailed a passing taxi.

“You’re not curious on how I found you here in this city?”

Effie stilled with one hand on the taxi’s door. For a moment, he entertained the thought that she might change her mind about going home but she surprised him by pulling the door open, sliding into the back seat and then looking over at him.

“Well, are you coming?”

XxX

Her apartment was spacious enough for two occupants. It was clean and spotless, and boasted modern furnishing. One wall was installed with a floor to ceiling window which overlooked the city. On another, there was a decorative mirror and a display stand below it. The photographs in the frame caught his attention and drew him closer.

Her parents were notably missing from any of the photos. There was one of her with a little boy he presumed to be her nephew.

“This guy,” he pointed to the kid, “has a photo of you. You send photos to your nephew, yeah? Your father must have taken it from him cause…,” he showed her the photo from his phone. “That’s the Flyer behind you. There’s also a geotag attached to the photo. That’s how your father knew where you are.”

“Oh,” she blinked. “How foolish of me…. Is there a way to disable that function?”

Haymitch nodded and was unprepared when she handed her phone to him. He was not the best at technology but he managed somehow after fumbling with the device and looking up the correct settings.

When he returned the phone to her, she had a glass of iced tea for him.

“I miss him terribly,” she admitted. “I used to take him out every Sunday and spoiled him silly. Do you miss yours?”

His brows knitted together as he took a sip from his drink.

“You told me about a daughter. You said she wasn’t truly _yours_ ….” she tried to jog his memories. “You even showed me a picture of them.”

“Ah, right. Do I miss them?” he snorted.

“Tell me about them,” she requested. “You said you helped their family during a job…”

“Iris Everdeen… That’s their mother. She left home after her husband’s death. Don’t think she actually realised she walked off. She was among the first I found,” Haymitch said. “She’s still here and there – there are good days and bad days - so the kids are often coming and going from my house.”

“They must think of you as their savior. You must mean a lot to them,” she commented.

Haymitch had nothing to say to that. There were parts of him that he shielded from them. His drinking was already something he was ashamed of and they had seen plenty of him stumbling around drunk for him to dig up more skeletons from his closet.

They fell quiet again and the silence was enough cause to make Effie uneasy. She glanced at up him as she reached for the television’s remote. The late night news was on and the low volume filled up the quiet pockets in the house.

“You’re really interested in the news or you’re hinting that I should leave?” he teased.

“If I wanted you to leave, I would have made it clear. I just think there are more to your story than what you are telling me so I figured you might need the time to collect your thoughts and leave you to it without me staring at you and giving you pressure.”

Haymitch watched her. If he were in her shoes, he would have a problem trusting him but the fact that she invited him to her apartment … Perhaps all was not lost.

“How thoughtful,” he praised her in jest.

“Naturally,” she sighed delicately. “I wish people are just as thoughtful where I am concern as I was to them.”

“Alright, sweetheart,” he concurred and placed the glass of iced tea back on the coffee table. “I was an asshole and went on about it the wrong way. I know that.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m doing this for Prim,” he voiced out, revealing a part of himself to her.

“I beg your pardon?”

Haymitch shifted in his seat.

“She’s a good kid and pretty damn smart, too. She’s got big plans, that one. Mainly, she wants to help and she thinks bringing back her family’s pharmacy would be one way to achieve that,” he said with an affection he reserved only for them. “And I ain’t gonna deny her that. We live in a small town and there aren’t that many opportunities so your father’s supposed to help get a tutor. Get her started with a solid foundation for later.”

Effie angled her body towards him, leaving her back to the television.

“Except he’s playing games with me. She’s supposed to have met this tutor a day or so after I left but your father ain’t doing shit until…until he’s happy that I’ve got some progress with you. Last I spoke to him right after I met you, he told me he was going to arrange it but I don’t know if the kid’s met her tutor or not. I haven’t called. I don’t know what to tell if she asks. She’s really excited about it but… You know, she’s sad for you, too,” he muttered the last part quietly.

A look of surprise passed through her face. “How so?”

Haymitch exhaled. “She thinks I’m destroying your happiness by getting you home.”

“She _is_ a smart child,” Effie remarked. “Oh! I supposed I could talk to my sister or my brother. They can arrange for Prim to get what she needs. My parents are not the only one with influence. If she wants,” her voice took on an excited tone, “Prim can attend the school that my nephew is attending! I do believe they provide dormitories for her should she need it and it is an excellent school, Haymitch. Just imagine the two of them being friends!”

“You’re still tryin’ to out pay your parents,” he chuckled.

“Yes, because I am _not_ going home,” she told him in all seriousness. “Is that all the deal you strike with my parents?”

“There are more,” he said simply.

She waited and when he didn’t continue, she asked, “Your expenses here…?”

Effie Trinket was smart, he already knew that. She knew when to push and hold back, and right now, she understood not to press him for more but he would be a fool if he believed that she had let the matter go. She would ask again sooner or later, he would bet his house on that.

“On your father,” he answered and held the credit card between his fingers.

“Oh! We should go shopping! He wouldn’t know,” Effie grinned with a little twinkle in her eyes. “What an excellent pay back.”

Haymitch scrunched his brows together at the unexpected suggestion only for him to roll his eyes when it dawned on him that that was the sort of thing Effie Trinket would do.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He told her a little bit more about himself. Will Haymitch let Effie have her little payback? What are your thoughts?
> 
> As usual, photos on my tumblr.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

When they met up again the day after, Effie came prepared with information of the school her nephew was enrolled in; the benefits and merits, its reputation and insisted that Prim would love it there.

"That won't work," Haymitch disagreed. "Prim is everything to Katniss and being separated from her that way… I don't think she'll bite."

Effie had scheduled a house visit for a meeting with one of her clients when she had asked him along, he agreed to it simply because he had nothing else to do that day. It was a good experience, he thought, to leave the touristy areas of Marina Bay Sands behind and stepped into the local neighbourhood.

"You won't know until you ask," Effie argued. "If she cares about her sister, she would want only the best for her, like you do."

Haymitch shot her an annoyed look. She can be quite persistent when she set her mind to it. It was just his luck, he supposed, to be surrounded by exceptionally stubborn people.

"I need coffee," he mumbled distractedly and made a sharp left into a coffee shop he saw in the neighbourhood.

The array of stalls greeted him and it took him a while to locate the drink stall tucked at a corner. He moved towards it where the steam from boiling water rose to the air. There was a queue which he joined with Effie.

"I'd like a cup of Milo," she smiled at him.

He had never had a Milo before and had no idea what it was.

"I thought you'd be more of a tea kinda person."

"I had tea before I met you," Effie answered. "Now, back to what we were discussing. If the only reason you agreed to work for my father is for Prim, then really, Haymitch, talk to your girls about my suggestion."

"I told you that ain't the only reason," he muttered. He moved forward in line and then peered at the old lady behind the counter. "Coffee and uh – milo."

"You want Dinosaur? Milo peng? What you want?"

"I'm sorry - what?"

Haymitch frowned and Effie laughed.

"Normal, hot milo," she intervened. "And one coffee, aunty. Takeaway."

The old lady gave her a soft smile and turned her back on them, mixing and preparing the drinks in Styrofoam cups for them. The process was entertaining, to say the least, as she poured the ground coffee into what he thought with horror as a sock which Effie was quick to assure was actually just a filter. The lady handed him their drinks with a loud, "handsome boy, your drinks!"

He glanced at Effie, a little embarrassed. She seemed more amused than anything.

"Why do you call her that?" Haymitch asked as they left the place. "You don't know her, yeah? She's not your aunt or anything."

"When I first arrived, I did think it was peculiar but now, I have accepted it as their way of life. They seem to address anyone older than them as Uncle or Aunty. It is as if the entire country is one big family. I think they do so out of respect," she mused, "but still, it is the way things are and I am just… adapting to it."

"Right," he nodded.

"Well, do not be surprised if someone were to address you as Uncle," she chuckled. "It happened to me quite a number of times."

"Listen, I'm not outright dismissing what you suggested," he told her. "But, let's take a rain check and see if you father holds his end of the bargain. I gave him an update yesterday night after I left your place… Told him I'm gettin' somewhere with you. So we'll see."

"Oh, he will hold his end. My father believes strongly in seeing through with any deals that he makes as long as he sees results. We should take a photo together," she suggested out of the blue.

"What the hell for?"

"Why, to send it to him, of course," she deadpanned. "If he sees that you are _friendly_ with me, gaining my trust, so to speak, it will likely give him the nudge to do what is necessary for Prim."

"Am I gaining your trust?" his eyes sparkled as he teased her.

"Do not push it, Haymitch. We both have something we want out of this."

He held up both hands in surrender and passed his phone to a girl for the photo. Effie pressed herself against his side, tilting her head slightly to smile at the camera except at the very last second, a passer-by accidentally bumped into her. He steadied her with a hand on her waist just as she looked up at him.

"That's good," she nodded her approval at the photo. "Send that to my father."

He wanted to take another photo, a simple one of them just standing side by side but Effie was adamant that he sent that in particular.

"I think it would give my father quite a scare he might even pull you back from the job," she said with an uncharacteristic wink.

The result showed hours later on that very night. They were walking down Orchard Road, the city's shopping district, with Effie fully intending to make use of her father's credit card when Haymitch's phone went off.

It was from Katniss with a text to say that the tutor was meeting Prim in an hour's time. They would be discussing and tailoring the curriculum to what Prim required so texted Beetee to oversee the meeting in case anything were to come up, and if he trusted anyone to know more about academics than the tutor, it was Beetee.

"See," Effie declared smugly. "What did I tell you? I know my father quite well. Do you know what this means, Haymitch? Two can play the game – you and I against my parents."

If he thought it was that simple to mislead the Trinkets, he was wrong. He received a call not long after from Lysandra Trinket demanding an explanation for that photo.

"You want me to convince her home, yeah? So that's what I'm doing," he snapped. "Quit questioning my methods. All I'm tryin' to do is to gain her trust before she can run off to who knows where this time round."

"How exactly do you propose to that? By getting cosy with my daughter?"

"You're shitting me, right?" he snorted. "I ain't cosying up to her. How do people trust other people? By offering a hand of friendship – you should try it sometimes," he was sure the woman could picture him rolling his eyes at this point. "Be a friend and you'll realize you don't have to _buy_ your way into people's good graces."

That clearly hit a nerve because there was an indignant cry before he was greeted with a momentary silence.

"That is all well and good, Mr. Abernathy," she said once she had herself under control, "but my daughter is a very beautiful woman, very irresistible."

"What's your point?" he growled.

"I will not have you falling for her charms. You will not even think about sleeping with her in an attempt to persuade her or worse still, you will _not_ fall in love with her… It is not uncommon for men to delude themselves into thinking that they are in love with my daughter. She might convince you to let her stay otherwise. I will risk not have the job compromised by such trivialities."

Haymitch scoffed. If she only knew how close they came to sleeping with each other…

"Your daughter is an adult," he shot back instead, "and what the hell do you take me for? You'd think I'd sleep with her to lower her defenses? Give your daughter some credit at least. She ain't stupid."

He let his gaze trailed over to where Effie was busy in a shoe shop, trying on a pair of killer red heels.

"Do not have any feelings for her, Mr Abernathy. I do not like what I saw in that photo you sent to my husband."

"You don't have to worry about anyone falling in love… or having _feelings,_ " he spat.

If earlier was any indication, the reason Effie Trinket was even talking to him and giving him her time of day _after_ knowing who he was and the reason he was here was so she could have him work with her instead of her parents.

He sighed. Since when did he become a double agent?

"I know why I'm here – get your daughter home, get Prim a tutor and get my record cleared. I'll hold up my end of the deal, you make sure you hold up yours."

Haymitch ended the call just as Effie excited from the shop with two bags.

"I've got myself two pairs of Louboutin," she announced proudly.

"And a Louboutin is a…?"

"Christian Louboutin, Haymitch," she explained. "No…? Doesn't ring any bell?"

"Nah."

"It doesn't matter. Let's go. We'll find something for you," she gave him a charming smile and handed the credit card she used to purchase the shoes back to him.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They never said it out loud but it would seem that Haymitch & Effie are slowly working together! Let's see how that pans out in future chapters. :) Leave me a review!
> 
> Background: Our coffeeshop (fondly call a 'kopitiam') is not like walking into Starbucks or any other coffee places. I'll upload a photo of it on my tumblr, if you're interested. 'Milo' is a chocolate malt drink. Not sure if you have it in US/Europe, but I think not? Anyway, 'Milo Dinosaur' and 'Milo Godzilla' is chocolate drink with Milo powder/ice cream/whipped cream, basically diabetes in a cup. It's an all time local favourite. 'Peng' means ice in Hokkien (I think). So, the lady is actually asking, if Haymitch would like ice in the drink.

**Author's Note:**

> Haven't written a hayffie multi-chapter for months and I've had this in my drive for a few weeks now, debating back & forth about posting it. I know it is/will be set in a different continent so I hope you'll still give it a chance!


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